Legacy
by Nightheart
Summary: Winner of 123312 FF contest. TBMU Trowa and Catherine are drawn into the affairs of a wartorn nation, but are these desperate rebels a threat or do Preventors have bigger fish to fry?
1. In which the threads are met

Rated PG 13 for language and some adult content.

Catherine Bloom looked out the window of their traveling circus caravan at the dim grey skies and endless patter of raindrops oozing down the pane of glass. They had been traveling for two days over that land-route across the nation of Belterre adjacent to the kingdom formerly known as Sanc. Catherine had been through this country once before, while she had been traveling on Earth during 195; what she had seen had both pulled at her heartstrings and rekindled her hope in mankind. She had also met and become friends with a young woman she greatly admired; a strong leader who wasn't afraid to face death or injury if it meant that the people she protected would be safe and cared for.

"How much longer do you think it's going to rain Trowa" Cathy inquired looking over her shoulder at her adopted little brother who was sitting at a table studiously solving a crossword.

"The weather report said that a bad storm is going to be passing through this area very soon. I think that the manager made the wrong decision to press on" Trowa said quietly, not looking up.

"Perhaps, but his reasoning is that he wants to get through this area quickly and make it to our next stop on this circuit as soon as possible. This area isn't as profitable as it once was but the stop we're journeying to has paid off well in recent years. I think it's because of the reconstruction boom" Catherine replied.

"I haven't seen any reconstruction in this place we're passing through" Trowa said abruptly. "I saw the burned out shell of a town with no sign of life yesterday from a distance as we passed but nothing that has resembled any new buildings. Is that just because we're passing through the countryside do you think"

"Oh, this country hasn't had a reconstruction like a lot of the surrounding counties" Catherine said, feeling a little pleased that she had some relevant information to contribute to the conversation while Trowa was feeling so convivial... well, convivial for Trowa. "I don't think it has fared as well economically as its neighbors, they're probably all in those camps still."

"Camps" Trowa inquired, jotting down another answer on his puzzle.

While he looked utterly relaxed and calm, Catherine had no doubt in her mind that he was listening to her and noting everything she said. There was no sign in his posture or countenance that betrayed it, but Trowa was suddenly all attentiveness. He didn't move to face her; he was just suddenly all stillness. Catherine had never seen someone who could stand as still as her adopted brother, one moment he'd be turning flips and the next he could be a statue carved from stone, without even the tell-tale quiver of muscles. A useful skill if someone was going to use you as a target, an equally useful skill for moving from cover to cover in a fight or moving through a darkened room.

"Oh yes, refugee camps" Catherine said brightly. "I stayed in one overnight once while you were off fighting that year. This place got hit hard with a lot of battles during and even before the wars, or so they told me. The circus was traveling this route that season and got caught in a mess of cross-fire between Treize faction members and regular OZ troops; we thought we were done for when from out of nowhere this third army pops up and start whaling on both forces ordering them to take their war away from the civilians and to get the hell out of their country. It made me feel just a little gleeful to see that. Since the circus was full of unarmed civilians we were invited inside the fortified gates of a nearby refugee camp and they shared some of their food and not only offered us a safe place to rest, but also offered to send us on our way with a guide and an armed escort to the border at no cost. The people in that camp were so very friendly, and those refugee children were so sad-looking from their big hungry eyes to their ragged clothes that the manager had us pitch the tent and put on a show for them all as a gesture of gratitude. I don't think I've ever had an audience quite that appreciative. It warms me now that I think about it."

"They probably hadn't had anything lighthearted to entertain themselves with for some time before then" was all Trowa said.

"I even got to meet the leader of the refugee army, well, it's not really an army in the traditional sense, just a lot of really scared people that banded together to try to protect themselves. She was surprisingly young; even younger than me. I still really admire her and respect her strength for doing all she managed to do."

"Hn" Trowa nodded filling in another answer. Catherine subsided into silence, thinking about the unusual young woman she had made friends with for but a short time. She turned back to staring outside the window at the empty rain-soaked landscape.

I wonder what she's doing now, my good friend, Midii Une... 

"Thank-you again Vice Minister for taking the time to meet with us, I feel this meeting has been a step in the right direction to forging our countries bright future as one among many nations in the Earth Sphere Unified Nation" the thin frog-legged, pencil-necked official with a drooping oiled black mustache said, pumping her hand vigorously. Her bodyguard glared from his place at her side and one step behind and with a slight straightening of his spine made it clear that the man's proximity and handling of his charge was not permissible.

Relena Darlian, Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs for the Earth Sphere Unified Nation Council Board, smiled gently and extricated her hand.

"No thanks are necessary Mister DuLern" she said. "I'm simply answering an honest request for help and guidance from a valued ally in the Unified Nation. We must remember that we are all valued Allies."

She suppressed a sigh of relief when she was on the other side of the door after being escorted out by the thin official on the Nation of Belterre's Provisional Government. She hadn't spent very long in the tiny little country and already she could hardly wait to stomp the dust of it from her shoes. It wasn't a bad little place; charming countryside really, but it was right next- door to the land that had once been her kingdom back in 195. The Sanc Kingdom, bastion of pacifism and home to the Peacecraft line for generations before her. Part of her was a little sad to see the passing of an era and the ending of a history with her own refusal to retake her rightful name and throne there and her brothers steadfast angst-and-unworthiness fest that he liked to indulge in, was still indulging in. At least he had finally had the good sense to make Noin happy.

No, the Nation of Belterre wasn't the problem... perhaps its leadership was. When she had been ruling the Sanc Kingdom there had been no representative from the government of this country, simply because there had been no government. The men and women who had once proudly called themselves the leaders of this poor little country had gathered up all of their wealth and high-tailed it out of there at the first sign of trouble years before leaving the countries people high and dry and without a voice to defend them against the many armies that subsequently invaded them and turned it into one large free-for-all battlefield. It wasn't the fault of the people themselves that their leaders had abandoned them, nor was it their fault that their country was strategically placed to a number of various and very important targets in this part of the world, the Luxembourg Base, the Eastern OZ/ Alliance Headquarters, the Headquarters of the Romafeller Foundation. They were just caught in the middle of everyone else's battles because they hadn't had any powerful allies to rush to their aid or rattle their sabers for them. That left the People of this poor nation in worse straights than her own had been, basically, anyone with sufficient force of arms could do anything they wanted to this poor country (and they had... they had) without fear of retaliation.

Now that it was peacetime all of the other countries had rebuilt everything they had lost in costly battles and were preparing for an extended period (hopefully forever) with no battles. They turned their attention to forging a new future and repairing the wounds of the past. Houses and cities were rebuilt as soldiers returned to their homes or made new ones and settled down to their deserved peaceful lives. All except for this nation. Nothing was being rebuilt, mainly because there was really no money to start with; none of the other countries were willing to extend credit to a nation that was still in economic collapse.

Their provisional government was... well, Relena hadn't been terribly impressed with them. Most of them had been hand-picked from the Romafeller Foundation, noblemen's sons with all of the right training in the theory of good leadership and economic reconstruction, but none of the actual talent for it. They had plenty of ideas, but... well, they had made a good many starts but none of their projects were ever completed. In this situation, having half of a loaf was actually worse than having none, the government made grand plans for building a city, they hired all of the best planners, got some other countries (as well as their wealthy Romafeller families) to lend them some money and then pissed away all of the funds on meaningless details like monuments, and useless parks and museums. They accomplished less than nothing because they still didn't have a place to shelter their people AND they still had to pay back the money they had borrowed... which they couldn't because they still had no money.

"So what did you think of them" her quiet and capable Preventors-assigned bodyguard Heero Yuy inquired as they walked down the hall towards the exit of the newly-built mansion to house the Belterre Provisional Government and it council members. As usual he was alert, scanning down the hallway and into every shadow, every nook and crevice for the slightest sign of threat to his charge.

"I think" she replied tightly. "That making your son part of the head of a nation should not be tantamount to putting him in the Pony Club."

Heero gave one of his rare quiet chuckles as Relena smiled wryly. Heero paused and touched his earpiece.

"Wait" he said, holding her elbow lightly as he bent his head to listen. Finally he said

"The Demar Spaceport has been closed due to a bad storm, we've been ordered to travel with the civilian caravan along the secured route."

"Huh? Heero, what's this about a secured route? This is peacetime, there are no armies to secure a route against" Relena was mildly offended, thinking that the honor of all of her hard work was on the line.

"It's not defended against an army per se" he replied flatly as he continued to escort her out to her limo to continue on her peace tour.

"Then what are they defending against" she inquired.

"Reports from this area are sketchy, at best" Heero said, looking disgruntled at his frustrating lack of information. "I only have rumors to go on as any hard or official data is rare and difficult to find. There are those who say that there is a massive ring of terrorists hiding out in the old battlefields of this place. Others say that there are two forces still fighting for control over the countryside. There is a third version that says a peasant army is banding together to take control of this part of the world in retaliation for its ill treatment during the wars. Another version that says that the civilian population has nothing to do with its government and had formed an armed force of its own to overtake it as soon as it gets around to establishing itself as a way of getting revenge for the cowardice of its former leaders. All versions seem to point to there being an armed force hiding itself somewhere in Belterre's countryside."

"Why hasn't the Preventors investigated these rumors" Relena demanded worriedly. "That is their job isn't it"

"Several armed forays into the countryside were sent. All of them were unsuccessful in their attempts to gather hard data."

"My God, what happened to them" Relena asked, hand to her mouth, expecting the worst.

"They were unharmed if that is what you're worried about. But, they were unsuccessful because shortly after they made any real progress into the nations countryside they were overtaken by an unknown assailant, rendered unconscious, their weapons were stripped and dismantled with key parts taken from them to render them inoperative and the entire team and all of its equipment were left tied up but unharmed on the other side of this nations borders."

"Oh, then how is it that we were allowed to pass the borders unmolested"

"Perhaps because you are a diplomatic envoy. I would assume that a force that is part of this nation would have a way of keeping an eye on its own leaders and the people that visit them" said Heero.

"It's pretty obvious that the government has little to do with its civilian population" Relena ruminated aloud while Heero made his usual check of the limousine and driver. No kidnapping attempts would be made the easy way while he was on watch.

"After all" she continued. "They were handpicked by strangers and I don't think even one of them comes from this country. They barely even mentioned their people except in passing, and then more of as an abstract notion. A 'yes we have a people, they're around here somewhere I'm sure well get to them later' sort of an attitude is what I picked up. It's logical that if the government isn't part of its people, then its people aren't part of the government. I would also say that they must have some other kind of leadership, perhaps an old nobleman who actually lived within the country provided some kind of protection."

"Interesting speculation... it's equally possible that it's some kind of terrorist group or religious fanatic that's taken over by sheer force of arms and is holding all of the people in forced labor camps" Heero rebutted.

"Pessimist" she grumbled. "Still, I'd like to find out just what exactly happened to the refugees and civilians that live in this country because one thing is for certain; they aren't living anywhere around here. This city that the Provisional government rebuilt as their capitol is creepy... it's like a ghost town! There's no one in it."

"Yes, I expected a landmine to go off at any minute" Heero agreed.

Relena took this to mean that Heero was reminded of an old battlefield rather than seeing just an eerily empty city. He nodded his head and opened the door to signal that his sweep was complete and that it was allowable for her to enter the vehicle, which was a relief because Relena was getting a little bored with holding her umbrella in the rain.

Once they were both situated inside her limo with her faithful Pagan at the wheel Relena turned to Heero and asked

"You said we were joining up with a civilian transport traveling along these roads, who are they? Some kind of merchant caravan or something"

"A circus, actually" Heero said. "If we have any spare time I would not be averse to visiting an old comrade of mine."

That was as close as Relena had ever heard (or would likely ever hear) Heero say "I want something." She gladly acceded to his silent request as she said

"We have plenty of time for a visit Heero. My next appointment isn't until tomorrow anyway so that leaves us several hours at least with ample travel time included. I have no objections to a long rest for a friendly visit."

"Thank-you" he said quietly.

"My pleasure" Relena said warmly. "There's no reason why my career should rob the both of us of our social lives."

She gave him a last warm smile and settled back and closed her eyes until such a time as they caught up with the caravan. Usually she'd be going over her notes for the next meeting but since she was going to have a rare bit of free time, she indulged herself in a nap instead.

A young man in his early twenties with messy shoulder-length reddish brown hair and grey eyes walked up to a woman one or two years younger than him with long golden hair twisted into a tight French twist. She was soaked to the skin and looked more than a little tired as she wearily climbed out of the cockpit of her equally moistened mobile suit and caught the chain down to the ground. They both wore dark midnight blue cover-alls with a silver fleur-de-lis patch on the breast above a zip-pocket, although the blonde had her fleur-de-lis emblazoned on the face of shield in front of a sword. The muddied suit they stood at the foot of was obviously very well used, but distinct in that it was not painted the colors that OZ or the Sanc Kingdom or the Alliance had used (back when they had still used them). Instead the suit was a deep midnight blue under the mud and debris sticking to it with silver accents and a matching fleur-de-lis painted at the top of one arm near the shoulder.

"How did your disaster relief go Number One" the young man asked.

"Everything is proceeding as planned. We managed to relocate and all of its civilians to higher ground before the flooding washed them away. The disaster relief teams have everything under control now that the necessary number of sand-bags has arrived, however they have requested Homeguard assistance in locating any people they might have missed in their general sweeps of the flooded areas. That's what I spent the morning doing by the way, sweeping upstream and down in my mobile suit along with my teams with that frigid water seeping into my cockpit and soaking me. That water is cold! Why couldn't it have flooded earlier in the year, like summer time? Why did it have to wait until the weather had turned so chill"

"You should be glad it wasn't earlier" the young man pointed out. "We would have lost the harvest otherwise."

"There is that" she acknowledged. "Come on, I'd like to see if I can get at least a little warm and dry before I have to go back out there again. Much more of this and I may have to consider growing gills."

"Are the dams in place going to be adequate do you think"

"So far, the sand-bag dams have held fine and they should continue to hold through the worst of the storm that's expected to come through this area later tonight. It would take the concentrated effort of a lot more than some water to make the walls fall. The new camp is located in 071925, and has set up adequate shelter and facilities to house and care for disaster victims in case they should be needed" Number One said.

"Here, I got you some hot spiced cider. Drink up, you look like your about to shiver yourself to pieces."

"This is good" she grunted in satisfaction, pausing to acknowledge a wave of greeting from a passing group pf women carrying supplies to go to build some necessary part of the camp and ruffling the hair of a kid as he bolted past her on some errand or game. "Has there been any word from the government on our request for aid"

"Ye-es" the young man said, obviously hesitant to answer the question. The young blonde raised an eyebrow, turning to face him and holding position.

"Are they sending us any additional personnel to help" she inquired carefully.

"No" the young man said.

"How about equipment? Boats, cables, winches, floats"

"No."

"Supplies" she inquired hopefully.

"No" he said, on the end of a sigh. "They sent a letter."

The young woman's mouth tightened. She already knew what was likely to be in the letter, she knew she likely wasn't going to like it either.

"What does it say" she asked flatly.

"They said that they regret to inform us that they cannot spare the monetary resources from the country coffers to help with a purely local problem, and that since it has been handled quite well by the locals they see no reason why it should not continue to be so."

The young woman's hands tightened around the shaft of the pencil she had been holding until it snapped in half from the pressure. She threw the pieces to the ground in anger and immediately regretted littering and wasting a good resource.

"There's more" the young man continued. "And please don't kill the messenger."

"Go on" she said, obviously keeping a tight reign on her temper.

"They have heard rumors of an armed and armored force within the countryside of their nation and wish to serve notice to that force, whosoever they happen to be, that unless they dismantle their weapons and stand down their guard they will be persecuted to the fullest extent of the Earth Sphere Unified Nation's law regarding terrorists and armed militia. Furthermore that the leader or leaders of said group will be brought before the Unified Nation in a public trial for crimes against the state of peace in the earth sphere. The group calling itself the Homeguard has been labeled a terrorist group by the Belterre Provisional Government."

The woman stood there in utter shock for a moment, for the first time in her life she was literally speechless with shock and outrage. Her mouth worked but she couldn't seem to get a sound out. At last the moment passed.

"WHAAT" She roared in outrage. Even for a woman who was accustomed to bellowing out orders over the sound of a multitude of voices and other noises blended together the roar really carried. Heads snapped suddenly to look over at the source of the cry of rage in alarm, and quickly looked away. They were well aware of what she could do when angered and they didn't want to do anything to give them a tangible target for that anger.

"Calm down" the young man said. "You don't want to alarm the bystanders. The morale in this camp is fragile enough as it is. At least get out of earshot before you go off on a tear."

The young woman made a sharp gesture for him to follow her and strode off on her heel, headed directly towards a particularly large private tent located at one end of the field with anger radiating itself from a stiffened spine and a hard purposeful stride. The area suddenly and mysteriously cleared itself of all life. There was more than one storm that the people in this camp were battening down the hatches for.

"I don't believe this" she screamed once she batted at the tent flap behind her. She couldn't slam a door since there were no doors in this camp and slapping a piece of cloth wasn't nearly as satisfying so she began to pace furiously.

"I'd believe a lot of those panty-waisted, tea-drinking, tights-wearing, paper-shuffling, frilly-shirted, collective of incompetents trying to call themselves the government of this nation, but I can't believe this. A terrorist group! My Homeguard, a terrorist group! They wouldn't know a terrorist group if they were car-bombed by one; and right now I wish they would be. Humph, Provisional Government, ha. Those boot-licking pansies couldn't find their own asses with two hands and a map! I'm half tempted to pull all of my camps away from the route to the capitol and let the Raiders ride on past the border and straight into this country to attack them a couple of times now that they've gone to all of the trouble to making their mansions on top of the hills and their fancy museums."

Speaking of which" the young man said, seizing on the opportunity to quickly change the subject back to impending business now that his esteemed leader had blown off some steam.

"Our scouts on the border report that they have spotted Raider activity and it is precisely as we had guessed; they are tracking the civilian transport along route 79."

"Of course they are" she muttered dryly. "It's the wealthiest thing to pass through this sector in a very long time. Have you located one of the locals from the camp in this sector? I could use more information" she inquired.

"Already taken care of" he assured her with all of the confidence of one who had a given situation well within his control. "A local forester and a former highway patrolman were questioned earlier and we came away with the area that they were most likely to strike from."

"Most likely? But they're not sure" the young woman ascertained as she zipped the top of her dark blue coveralls closed and straightened to look at the young man making his report.

"It's over an eighty-seven percent likelihood that they'll use this location because the layout f its terrain features make it a perfect match for the way the Raiders like to work."

"The perfect place for an ambush you mean" she surmised.

"Yes. The area is a bottle-neck, naturally occurring. There is a cliff-side on one side of the road and a river ravine on the other, well it was a river ravine... right up until the flood, now it's full and overflowing its banks. The road was previously covered in water up until the successful sand bagging yesterday. The waters receded due to the dams our men and the locals of this area have installed approximately three miles upstream and our road crews cleared the route of all debris this afternoon. Its safe to pass without fear of flood waters washing them away and it is the quickest route to that section of the border from the interior."

"A cliff on one side and waters that are now deep on the other with the road passing through between them you say?" she said, her voice concerned. "Show me on the map. Which direction are they likely to come from"

They both walked over to a laminated map pinned to the top of a folding table in the tent that was large enough to hold five or six comfortably. The problem with their ineffectual government declaring Homeguard a terrorist group was temporarily forgotten in the wake of a far more pressing concern.

"They'll have the advantage in terrain" she muttered a soon as she got a clear look at the area he outlined on the topographical map with the changes the effects of the weather made on the size of the river demarcated in blue dry-erase marker.

The border was to the north a few miles away from the point they were concentrating on. There was a little spot where the land seemed to squeeze together into a bottle neck with a little road sandwiched between a cliff and a river bed ravine as if nature itself had conspired to create the perfect place for an ambush. The road passed northwest to southeast to get around the dense forests along the top of the cliff-side and hills on the northern side of the road and wide river plain at the bottom of the ravine (that was now filled to the brim with water) on the southern side of the road. The Raiders would not have to go very far out of their way to set up their people at the top of the cliff since they would have snuck across the border in the north to wait for their intended prey to come to them. Once they blocked off both ends of the road cutting off their enemies escape routes they would easily be able to move in for the kill. The only place the civilian transports would have to go would be into the river and it was moving too swiftly due to the flood to be a viable option.

"We could try to stop them before they reach the cliff-side, but that would mean trying to fight a guerilla fight in the forests. They wouldn't be able to use their mobile suits but neither would we" the young man, second in command of Homeguard said.

"No good, we'd loose way too many of our people trying to take out theirs in a one on one fight and it's entirely too likely they would have us greatly outnumbered" she grumbled, putting her finger athwart her lips and frowning in concentration. "We can't afford to loose the personnel, especially now with this flood and these raider attacks happening all along the borders. No, it will have to be fought primarily by mobile suits; we know we can out gun them if we use both our mobile suit team and some of the suits that this cell keep here for defense of this Haven."

"If they reach the cliff overlooking the road they have a very clear advantage in terrain, trying to take them out from the roadside would be much like trying to storm the walls of a castle. They'll be expecting an attack from the forests on either side and will have prepared for it but frankly I can't see another way... not with that river to our backs. It's like forcing your enemy to fight with its back to the sea, we'd have nowhere to retreat to" he said, poring over the map alongside his nominal leader.

The young woman, Number One of the Homeguard, said nothing for a few minutes, studying the map and frowning in concentration.

"They'll be expecting us to take them from the sides parallel to the road in the forests to prevent them from reaching their ambush position at the top of the cliff" she mused aloud. She looked at the map for a moment more then abruptly turned to her second in command.

"Do we have any of those Pisces model mobile suits left or did we scavenge them for spare parts"

"We kept them around, we've been using them to run rescue sweeps in this area during the flooding in the spots deep enough to accommodate them; other than that we've used them for harbor patrol."

"And is this ravine deep enough" Number One perused, smiling a little predatorily. Her second in command slowly echoed her smile.

"Yes, plenty, due to the floods."

"Good. Here's what we'll do" she said decisively. "It's never a good idea to do what your enemy expects you to do so we'll give them a little surprise party. Have the Pisces suit covertly take position across from the cliff. Move additional troops into the forests beside the cliffs as well, but tell them to make certain they're not spotted and also that they are not to engage the enemy until I give the order. I'll lead the team that will add themselves under the disguise of some merchant supply carriers on the civilian caravan and travel with them for a ways. Lastly, keep local scouts covertly monitoring the movements of the raiders; when they move I want to know about it."

"Consider it done. And the strategy"

"We'll wait for them to make their move and then bust out in overwhelming numbers from out of no where... same as always. Homeguard will protect the civilians of this nation, even if they're just passing through."

Trowa had been surprised to suddenly receive a call from his old comrade Heero Yuy telling him that he was traveling over land in the same sort of caravan as he and the circus were and asking whether it would be alright for him and his important charge Relena Darlian to meet up with them, ditch the conspicuous limo, and travel more or less undercover.

Trowa, who shared Heero's concerns about the lack of information in or around this area, readily agreed. Seeing and traveling with Heero was bringing back some of the more pleasant memories of the wars, ones that didn't actually revolve around battlefields or the circus exactly. He and the pilot of Gundam Zero One had traveled across Europe together tracking down the members of Field Marshal Noventa's family so that Heero could offer them his life to atone for his mistake. Then Trowa had housed him in this same trailer while he recovered from self-destructing. Neither of the two of tem were what anyone would call convivial... they were better known for being the quiet ones of the group in fact and it was even odds which of the two was quieter, but they understood each other. That was all that was necessary.

Relena and Catherine were a little wary of each other. Catherine had been a mixture of surprised, honored and embarrassed to be housing so great and famous a personage as Relena Darlian (THE Relena Darlian) in her trailer. Surprised because Relena was, when it came down to cases a regular woman, honored because it was THE Relena Darlian in her trailer, and embarrassed because it seemed to plain a setting for such an extraordinary person. Relena tried to tell her that everything was absolutely fine and that she thought Catherine's trailer was pretty neat. Seeing as she'd never been in a trailer before the experience was a novel one for her.

Unfortunately the two of them didn't have much commonality as far as their backgrounds went, so after the young woman was offered tea and a snack Relena wound up going over some papers from her briefcase and Catherine read a romance novel lounging on her couch.

The two young men talked quietly about their lives since they'd parted ways the last time and then the topic switched to the country they were passing through as they compared notes (lifetimes as soldiers being hard habits to break) over what they knew.

Heero knew only about as much as the Preventors had been able to find out; that this area was hiding some kind of force that could overwhelm fully trained teams of Preventors but that it did not seem to wish overt harm to anyone nor did they seem to be openly hostile. Suspicious as he was, Heero felt that if it had been rebel group or a terrorist faction, they would not have taken the risk of leaving the Preventors alive to tell about it (not that the Preventors who'd been dumped at the border had anything to tell). Trowa replied with a mention of the information that he had heard from Catherine earlier that day, that there had at one point been an armed force in this country, back in the war of 195. Trowa didn't know if they were still around but that his sister had talked to the leader. Sensing a fat hare run right into his snare, Heero requested Catherine to come over to them and answer a few questions.

The young auburn-haired woman marked her place in her book and sat down at the table with the two ex-soldiers. Curious now, Relena joined them.

"You said that you met this leader of there's during the war, could you describe the circumstances" Heero asked; his gaze sharp and focused as a hunting falcon.

"The circus had been traveling over land on a circuit much like this one only I think it was actually farther to the south nearer the old Sanc Kingdom" she said, looking up and off to recall the exact details of the events.

Heero nodded, filing away the detail. He gestured for her to continue.

"We were out in the middle of nowhere and for once the roads were open before us."

"For once? They hadn't been open before then" he inquired.

"Oh, no. Up until we passed the ridge separating some wider flat plains form rockier soil there had been a lot of really long lines of refugees, strung out as far as the eye could see. I felt so bad for them, they all looked so lost and sad; I'll bet the war had taken everything they had except their lives. Well anyway, the area was mostly open fields with a lot of debris like suit parts and gun parts. There were mobile suits fighting in the distance ahead of us. There was no way to go around them and we couldn't go through them without panicking the animals and possibly risking our own lives so the manager called for a halt and we tried to cluster ourselves together so they'd see we were a civilian transport and hopefully leave us alone."

"Could you identify the two armies that were fighting" Heero asked.

"One of them was the Treize faction and the other was some large well-established army too, like the former Alliance or OZ. I only know that it was a fight between two powerful enemies vying for supremacy and that they were holding a skirmish against each other in that area."

"How did you know that" Heero asked.

"One of the trainers said so and he would know because he always kept up on war stuff."

"So the battle had not yet actually reached you at this point correct"

"Yeah, that's right. It was still a little ways off; you could just see the streaks of light from their weapons and the occasional burst of an explosion. But it didn't stay that way, their skirmish traveled and soon we were right in the middle of it, caught in the cross fire I believe the saying is. I don't remember ever being quite that afraid for my life before. It was like I was this tiny little insect in the path of a monster that wouldn't notice or care if I lived or if it killed me. At least when I was held hostage by OZ my life had some value, but with this... they truly didn't care at all."

"At what point did the rebel army become involved" Heero questioned, getting the story back on track.

"The best part" Catherine said enthusiastically. "As I said, we were their alone on the road huddling in our trailers as the battle raged around us, death at a misfire or a mobile suit exploding overtop of us. The all of a sudden, out of nowhere, this fleet of mobile suits, all of them painted midnight blue with silver descends en masse surrounding all of us standing shoulder to shoulder with their guns out and pointing at the two armies skirmishing to either side. There was one mobile suit, it didn't look any different from the others but there was voice that trumpeted out from amplified com systems to the warring suits of the Treize Faction and OZ. The Person inside that mobile suit told those armies without a trace of fear that they and their unwanted weapons were trespassing on their territory and threatening the lives and safety of the civilians under their protection; that if they didn't want a fight on their hands that the both of them would leave immediately or face utter destruction."

"What happened"

"The leader of the Treize Faction demanded to know whom they were facing and the blue fleet told him that they did not give their names out to pesky soldiers who had no respect for the sanctity of life or the safety innocent civilians. Oz stepped in at this point and demanded that the unknown enemy throw down their weapons and surrender for interrogation. The blue fleet replied that this territory and all of the people in it were under their protection and that if the two armies did not take their unwanted fight elsewhere they would be destroyed. They would only be given one more opportunity to leave."

"Did they" Trowa asked, by now he was a bit caught up in the tale, for it was one he'd never heard from his sister before.

"No, not at first. They took a little more convincing. The leader of the fleet who had come to protect us then told them that if they continued to remain in the area harassing innocent refugees of their country and making large mobile nuisances of themselves that the fleet would have no choice but to execute all of the soldiers at their home bases. And they sent a screen projection against the ground of the battlefield showing that they had indeed overtaken both of their stronghold bases and were indeed holding all of their officers, support staff and mechanics hostage."

"They had overrun their command posts and were using them as leverage to get them to surrender? A dirty tactic" Heero said, but it didn't sound like it bothered him at all.

"At this point I was more concerned about the lives of my friends and family than I was about the lives of a bunch of fighters who had apparently destroyed the lands around them and left the general population to starve and fend for itself."

"So the two factions broke off and retreated to their forts"

"For the most part" Catherine said. "A few of them became enraged and attacked the fleet that had ringed itself around us in a wall of mobile suits but the blue fleet stood their ground and came out victorious. None of us were harmed at all. I never found out what happened with the command posts of the Treize Faction and OZ but at that point I couldn't really have cared less. As for the fleets of mobile suits, they were quickly stripped of all of the weapons and rendered inoperable, and then they were tied up, thrown in the backs of jeeps and taken to the borders."

"Is that all that happened" Heero questioned.

"No" Catherine said. "They took us back to the refugee camp they were guarding and we put on a special show for them. I also got to speak with the leader of their militia."

Heero looked surprised, then quickly asked for details about what she had noticed about the camp itself. How had it been laid out?

"Well, the first thing I remember noticing were the high walls around them and the tall watchtowers above the wall. It had a large heavy-looking gate at the entrance to the road, a lot like a medieval castle does. The refugee camp inside the walls was an actual camp, as in it had mostly tents and some cabins. It was laid out in clusters, like there were several big bon-fire pits where they heated up water to wash and cook in and near these fire-pits there were large tents for eating in and cooking in with showering and sanitary facilities on the other side. Those little public things like baths and eating tents that several people needed to use were in the center and there were ten family tents arranged around the central area. It was all very orderly... well, taken as a whole it looked a bit jumbled because there were clusters and clusters of family tents but it could have been a lot worse; the place was clean, well organized and kept under control. They treated us like guests there, it was very plain that they didn't have a lot of food to spare, they weren't starving but they weren't exactly fat either. But what they had they shared with us unstintingly. I think a good portion of those meals were those soldier foods that come packed up in bags."

"MRE's? Meals Ready to Eat" Heero inquired.

"Yeah."

"Sounds like a military operation but you said something about family tents, could you expand on that" Heero inquired interestedly.

"Oh sure. Ummm well, there were a lot of families there, people of all ages. Some young men and women, many of whom were in the Homeguard; but most of the camp consisted of children and the elderly. There were also women and men who were clearly not soldiers. Families of refugees that were fleeing battlefields."

"Did they say how they had come to be clustered into the camp"

"Yes, I hung around and heard some of their stories and they said almost universally the same thing; that they had lost their homes and some lost their families when one or two of the armies fighting each other that year or one of the years before it plowed through creating wanton destruction in their wake without a thought to the lives they were ruining. That they had traveled from place to place looking for someplace peaceful to settle down and every place they went to a new battle sprung up and it seemed worse than the last. Finally they had either joined up with or been rescued and taken in by a group called the Homeguard in this kingdom. The Homeguard created a place for them that they could call home and all they asked in return as that they look out for each other and help within the camp."

"What did they mean by help out" Heero inquired. "Forced labor"

"Well, no one was forcing them to do anything, they were free to leave at any time but no one I talked to wanted to. They had order in the middle of chaos for the first time in a very long time for them. They were being fed and cared for when before they'd been hungry and on their own. They had people who were looking out for them, protecting them all in exchange for just their help in keeping the camp running smoothly; doing dishes, laundry, cleaning, mending, repairs, building on the walls and the gate around the camp and keeping that in repair. All of the necessary chores were on a schedule and each fire-group, which the little boy told me was usually about ten families large unless a sudden influx came pouring in, was assigned a duty roster for a week and the chores changed every week. There was an over-all person in charge of the camp called a Coordinator and there were sub-coordinators under him who took care of a specific fire-group, mediated inter-family disputes and generally tried to keep things going as smooth as possible."

"And these Coordinators were part of the militia" Heero inquired.

"No, the Homeguard was different from them. They seemed to kind of work together but for the most part they were two different things. She said that it was the responsibility of Homeguard to protect the people from outside armies but that they were capable of running their own affairs to their liking, she had enough to do without trying to take on the running of around fifty or sixty refugee camps as well."

"You said you spoke to their leader, do you mean the Coordinator of the camp or the leader of that military group... Homeguard was it"

"Yes. And I talked to the leader of Homeguard, the Coordinator was busy."

"What was he like" Heero pursued.

"She, it was a girl."

"What was she like"

"Well, we got along great actually. She wasn't what I would expect from someone who'd done all she managed to do. I would have thought she'd be moody and taciturn or a tyrant but she was actually pretty nice once she got over her suspicion of you. Oh, and she was young. I mentioned it to Trowa, but she was younger than me, about your age actually."

"Did she give a name"

"Yeah, but it took me some doing to get it out of her and she only gave it to me as a symbol of her trust so I'd rather not give it out. Everyone just called her Number One."

"Number One huh" Heero muttered. "Could you give a description"

"Why do you want to know" Catherine asked with a tinge of suspicion.

"She's the leader of an armed force, one that might still be armed when the disarmament of the Earth Sphere is going on. It falls within my job jurisdiction to find out all I can about her, in case she becomes a threat."

Catherine blinked then cocked her head to one side.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew her" Cathy said. "Neither Number One nor Homeguard have any interest at all in taking weapons outside their borders. In fact, they don't want any weapons inside their borders."

"Is that so"

"Yes that's so. Homeguard was started solely as a campaign to get rid of all of the armies that were traipsing through their countryside destroying everything within their path, wreaking havoc on the economy and creating long lines of refugees which were promptly ignored or placed in danger by those uncaring armies. Its one and only mission is to protect the civilians in Belterre and that's straight from the horse's mouth so to speak."

"Protect the civilians? There are no more armies anywhere in the Earthsphere Unified Nation, so why do they insist on attacking Preventors teams sent to investigate rumors of an armed force" Heero demanded, taken a little aback that a woman who professed to hate war so vehemently was taking the side of a person who was continuing to maintain armaments in peacetime.

"I don't know for certain, but if I were going to guess... were they armed"

"They did carry weapons for the purposes of destroying any weapons bunkers they came across, yes" Heero admitted.

"Then there's your answer. Homeguard is against any outside weapons being brought into their nation. The Preventors brought in weapons so they simply followed their standard procedure and dismantled those weapons and escorted them to the border. They don't want to harm anyone really; they just want to make sure their people are safe."

"Pacifism enforced by cudgel" Relena said, speaking for the first time. "Noin would certainly have approved."

Heero didn't look pleased with the reminder, and he knew that Relena was making a reminder, a very diplomatic reminder, that he himself should examine his own motives and actions before hunting anyone else down for theirs.

"I think I would like to meet this Number One of yours Miss Bloom" Relena said after a pause. "She sounds like someone I could talk to, someone who has a better handle on this country and its people than that Provisional Government of theirs."

"Everyone adored her" Catherine said with a small smile. "I guess you would actually have to see it to believe it, but she acts as if the refugees in those camps and the men and women who fight beside her in Homeguard were her own next of kin, or like a queen with an almost personal relationship with her people. They loved her, respected her, admired her; sort of treated her like part mascot, part beloved comrade. I think it was because everyone knew that there was nothing she wouldn't do for them, no risk she wouldn't take on or pain she wouldn't suffer if it meant she could best serve her people."

"A martyr" Heero stated.

"A woman who cared deeply about the suffering of her countrymen and her family" Catherine replied. "I asked her once, why she tried so hard and risked so much for people she didn't know and she told me that by protecting Belterre, she's protecting her home and that by sheltering her people, so too she shelters her family. And really, what other choice did they have? Their leaders had abandoned them long ago, their economy was in collapse, there were about five different kinds of army running amuck in their country... all they had was each other. I think it's good that such a kind and caring leader came to the fore to bring them together; it could have been far worse"

"I suppose that's true, but we still don't know what her motives are" Heero said.

"Weren't you listening? Number One only wants to protect her people" Catherine said in exasperation.

"What Heero means is that we don't actually know what she's like. We don't know what her capabilities are or what she might do if she was backed far enough into a corner" Trowa said, trying to soothe the hackles that had been raised in his elder sister. Catherine could be a true holy terror when someone was threatening someone she cared about, and for whatever the reason Catherine cared about this Number One.

"I know from experience that if a person, even a kind and caring one, is pushed far enough they're capable of about anything" Trowa said. "You say she wants to protect her people and that is likely very true, however, we don't know that she won't lash out and attack if she feels her people are threatened enough. It can't be risked, especially if she is in command of an armed force."

Catherine subsided, but looked worried and unhappy.

"Is there a way we could arrange to meet this Number One? Or get her to meet with the Preventors"

Catherine looked reluctant to say anything, and it was clear by the look on her face that she did have a way to get in touch with the militia leader but that she was uncertain whether she should or not. Finally after a long pause she said

"She left me a way to get in touch with her if I should ever need her again, but last I knew she was hard to get a hold of. As the leader of Homeguard she travels all over the country visiting different cells and refugee camps to take care of whatever major crisis or battle had sprung up nearby. So last I knew she was always on the move. Even if I did get in touch with her, it would probably be a while before we get any sort of reply."

"Could you get her to meet with Lady Une? Or a team of Preventors" Heero pursued. He was a regular hound on a scent.

"I don't know. Maybe. It would depend on how great a risk she felt the meeting presented. They'd probably have to promise to meet with her unarmed and also promise that they meant her and the people she protected no harm."

Further speculation was brought up short by a sudden jarring stop. The four people occupying the trailer grabbed the nearest bolted-down object the steady themselves against the jerk of inertia. They looked outside the window, to their right was a cliff face that sloped outwards a bit right next to the road and out their left window was a wide muddy river that flowed quickly past. There wasn't much margin for maneuver on either side, only just enough on the road and with vehicles the size of the ones they were traveling in turning around would be difficult.

"What do you think happened" Relena wondered, trying to look ahead of her through the window to no avail. They were surrounded fore and back by the other vehicles in their caravan.

"It's probably just a piece of debris on the road or the path washed out. There has been some bad flooding in this area or so the weather report said was likely" Catherine said brightly.

"Stay here" Trowa said, standing up. "I'll go check it out."

He opened the door to the trailer and stepped down, looking around him.

The day was dim, grey and overcast, the wind that blew through his hair and clothing was chill with a hint of frost in the air as a promise of things to come. Off in the distance he could see great black storm clouds menacing. More importantly, up in front of him he could see a group of ill-kempt looking men, most of them standing on the road before the lead vehicle in their caravan, blocking the path ahead. There was a single large jeep behind them and Trowa would have bet his Gundam (if he'd still had his Gundam) that that jeep was holding a mobile suit. Out of the woods behind the cliff ranging themselves along the edge of the cliff more of the men appeared some of whom rappelled down to block of their last exit route.

An ambush. There was no way out except for the river, and that clearly wasn't an option. The current was too swift to make an escape route and if they tried they'd make themselves into proverbial sitting ducks. They were well and truly caught.

"You know the drill" one of the men, possibly the ringleader, called from up front. "Everybody out of their trailers with their hands in the air and hand over anything you have of value. Failure to do so will result in us pushing your trailer into the river and seeing what comes floating to the top."

Trowa backed back into the trailer he shared with his sister to meet the worried eyes of two women, and the grim eyes of his comrade in arms.

"Raiders" Trowa said succinctly.

"Do we have any weapons" Heero asked, looking around the homely interior of the trailer for some high level artillery that his host was well known for.

"Just handguns. They may have a mobile suit or some kind of missile launcher in their jeep."

"Their numbers"

"I counted thirty on the cliff top and there may be more hiding in the woods. We are surrounded on three sides with no where to retreat but the water. The current is swift and if we try to float on it we'll be making ourselves a target for the snipers on the cliff."

"Its a good thing we got rid of the limo then, something like that would have marked us as entirely too conspicuous" Heero said, running over plans and scenarios in his head, much the same way as Trowa was doing currently.

"You should change clothes Relena" Catherine said. "If those bandits see you in that nice business suit of yours they'll know immediately that you're not part of the circus."

Relena nodded once sharply and headed for her suitcase to hunt up something more appropriate for the situation. Trowa went over to the window to get another look out. People were meekly descending from their trailers, trucks and vans with their arms held aloft. Relena appeared a few minutes later dressed in pale blue slacks and a grey wool sweater. Trowa slipped on his gun holster and threw a leather jacket on over it. Heero stripped off his Preventors jacket because it was entirely too conspicuous, and stuck his gun in the waistband of his jeans right at his lower back, his favorite drawing position, tucking the shirt he wore over it to conceal it. The two men nodded to each other and moved as one to the exit, Trowa going first and Heero reaching behind him to secure his charge.

Trowa and Heero took positions on either side of the two women they protected alert for any opening for escape or any hostile move from the enemy. The Raiders were far more interested in collecting the swag brought out by the merchant transports that had been traveling along with the circus and Miss Relena's diplomatic transport. They carried stuff like high-priced electronics, consumable goods and even recreational vehicles. There had been one last group of merchant transports that had joined them at their last stop before they had continued on their way through the Belterre countryside; the foreman in charge of the three trucks had said that they were transporting typewriters. Trowa couldn't help but notice that the typewriter caravan had all of its trucks located at strategically important points along the train, two in the fore several interspersed in the middle and two at the end. Point positions.

There came a hissing and roaring from overhead and on reflex Relena and Catherine hit the ground Trowa merely glanced over in time to see the cliff face get a large chunk of it blown away. Trowa and Heero looked over to the left, where the missile had come from, and out of the water of the swiftly moving river emerged the top of a Pisces model mobile suit. Another hatch opened and another missile was fired at the top of the cliff. Some debris rained down and a few injured Raiders fell from the top of the cliff.

A voice echoed over the amplified com system of the Pisces unit.

"Good morning gentlemen, this is your wake-up call. Its your friendly neighborhood Homeguard here to wish you a pleasant day and ask precisely what the hell you think you're doing to our civilians when we specifically told you that if we ever saw you in this area again we'd blow you straight to hell."

The raiders were quiet for a moment, conferring, and then the leader said.

"Bugger off you bastards; this is none of your business."

"You're traveling along our secured route, in our country, and harassing our civilians. Of course it's our business. I'm giving you ten seconds to back off before we open fire."

"If you do, you'll kill your precious civilians" he shouted back.

At his signal the Raiders along the cliff and at both ends of the road pulled out their guns and pointed them at the gathering of helpless people from the caravans. Trowa tightened his grip on his own weapon and wished desperately that he could get a clear shot without endangering the people he wanted to protect. If he made his move too early the Raiders might panic and open fire, damn those interfering suits! They might just wind up getting them all killed.

"We Raiders have you outgunned" the rag-tag band of bandits informed the Pisces model suit that had its gun ports open. "We want that loot."

Trowa received a rather unexpected surprise. The tops of all of the typewriter trucks were ripped open and out busted a horde of mobile suits, running weapons hot. They swiftly moved into position to surround the rest of the caravan in a wall of dark blue mobile suits facing outwards with their guns all pointed at the Raiders.

"Tough" the raiders were promptly informed by one of the midnight blue mobile suits. "You're not getting it. You have two options; leave now and we'll let you live or stay and fight and we will destroy you."

"We still have you outgunned" the Raider leader pointed out. "And we still have no problem shooting the hostages. You are the ones who will leave."

"Addressing the issues you have raised in reverse; one, we're not leaving, two, you will have a problem shooting the hostages through both an electromagnetic barrier for pulse weapons and the neo-titanium shields for artillery fire."

The small circle of mobile suits let detached their field device projectors from the shoulders of their mobile suits to surround them and mesh their force fields in defense. Then the suits whipped out wide flat panels of neo-titanium from within the trucks they'd traveled inside and held them in front of them looking for all the world like enormous blue knights standing shoulder to shoulder.

"And three" the person in the cockpit of the suit continued. "As for the matter of having us outgunned..."

Suddenly from the woods behind the cliff (and the Raiders lined up on the edge of it) rose a mass of suits two lines deep like slumbering giants coming to their feet after a long sleep. There was a thousand tiny clicks of metal sounding like amplified raindrops for a minute as guns were trained on the Raiders in front of them.

"Now throw down your weapons, raise your arms, and get the hell out of our country."

The Raiders, with great reluctance, started throwing down their arms.

"Okay people, you know the drill" the person who was apparently the leader of the Homeguard, or perhaps it was just this group of Homegard, shouted. "Round 'em up, strip them of their weapons, hog tie them and show these men to the border."

The orders were followed quickly and efficiently as members of Homeguard organized the raiders into harmless clusters and proceeded to search them before rather gleefully binding them hand and foot. The end result, from what Trowa and Heero could see, was four truckloads of Raiders trussed up like turkeys for market.

"Welcome to Belterre" the voice of the person in charge echoed from his or her suits com. "Since its getting late and we don't want you traveling over our territory in the dark, on behalf of the people of this area of Belterre I invite you to come to our camp nearby, share in our food and join us in friendship for the evening. Follow us this way; we'll escort you to the camp."

Trowa and Heero exchanged a long significant glance. Neither of them were certain if entering their camp, the camp of a possible armed enemy or at the very least someone they didn't know, was a good idea. Especially entering the camp with a very important person, Relena Darlian was someone the Earth Sphere Unified Nation could ill afford to lose and would pay a lot to get back. Entering strange, possibly hostile territory, in a position of weakness was far from being a good idea.

"Relena" Heero said quietly. "It is my opinion that we should consider carefully before accepting their offer. They may be offering an armed escort as a sign of friendship or they maybe using it as guards to keep us from escaping their power."

"Heero" Relena said with a look and a tone that said she thought he was being ridiculous. "If they had wanted to kidnap me, they would not have gone to all of the trouble to save all of these people from that raider attack. Besides, no one knows that I am part of this train aside of your friend, Catherine and the manager... I was snuck on board at the last stop without anyone seeing us."

"That doesn't mean that they don't know who you are. You're far too important to risk being surrounded by hostiles in an unknown location in enemy territory. No part of this whole idea is a good plan. It's a strategist's nightmare. I'm against it."

"We may not have a choice" Trowa's said quietly. "My fellow circus performers are already willing to accept the offer of food and shelter and it appears that the merchants see no reason why they shouldn't. If we object, we'll stand out. My recommendation would be that we put the Vice Minister back in Catherine's trailer and hide her in there until we are certain that the coast is clear."

"What" She hissed. "I most certainly will n"

Heero already had her around the waist and was moving her towards the door. He had apparently learned that arguing with a skilled speaker such as herself was useless.

"Um... Trowa" Catherine said suddenly, sounding a little worried. Trowa looked over at his sister inquiringly.

"What's that rumbling noise"

Next time on Legacy: Trowa spies around the Haven to investigate the identity of the mysterious Number One and the origins and intentions of the Homeguard. What he finds out gives him cause to wonder whether the Preventors shouldn't be investigating Belterre a little more aggressively.


	2. In which there are a number of unpleasan...

Midii Une, leader of the rag-tag band of men and women calling themselves the Homeguard patched into her suit communication to get a status report from the different teams of Homeguard cells she had assigned to specific tasks. The drivers had the now de-weaponed Raiders well out of the area, the rest of the teams involved in the counter ambush had finished stripping the weapons to their component parts for later disposal and were read to pack it in and head back to the barn. She was looking forward to a nice long time in the sweat lodges that the camp had rigged up in order to warm the people who had been stuck out in the chill flood waters. It was easier and more manageable than trying to create some kind of a large hot tub or set of baths (they didn't have the resources for something like that anyways especially on short notice) but a couple of sweat lodges had been doable, even necessary given that he weather had taken a turn for the worst.

She herself couldn't wait to get back to her base for the evening and warm up for the first time all day. She had been dripping wet and shivering since she'd arrived on location at dawn that morning. She'd been beginning to wonder if she'd ever feel warm again or if she would ever get her muscles to loosen up and stop shaking with cold. The cup of hot cider and the change of uniform had helped... but only a little. She was still frigid and her hands and feet were probably clumsy with cold, it was a good thing that piloting her suit for the basics didn't involve a lot of fine motor skills.

"Number One!" a panicked voice screamed over the link to her communications speaker.

"Yes..." she checked the origin of the signal; Thomas Biggs, one of the men she'd left on flood-water patrol down near the primary sand-bag dams.

"What is it Biggs?" she questioned.

"They took out the bags!" he shouted over the roar in the background of his com. Apparently he was in the middle of the flood. "There's nothing holding the water back and now its surging toward you knocking down everything in its path! The water wall is at least four feet high!"

Midii let out a string of curses and turned abruptly to her crew and the civilians, assessing the situation in a split second. The water would only take bare minutes to reach them and they wouldn't be able to get all of the civilians out in time and still move their gear and the Homeguard suits as well. The best they could do would be to use their suits and the neo-titanium shields to take the brunt of the force of the wall of moving water and try to secure all of the civilians in vehicles.

"Homeguard, we have a situation on our hands!" she barked out in her parade-ground voice, the voice that could be heard over hundreds of milling refugees and a few squads of Homeguard personnel running drills. Her orders were further amplified by the com-system on her mobile suit. Her Homeguard members came immediately to attention and looked to her for their instructions.

"Alpha team! Form a rank in across the road in front of me; Alpha's four, five, and seven, dig your shields into the ground and brace for impact. Beta team! Secure all civilian transports; hold 'em steady and make sure they don't get blown away. Civilians, get in the vans, now! Move it people, hustle hustle! Let's go!"

Among her own people her orders were obeyed instantly and without question. The civilians whose lives she was trying to save looked at each other questioningly, wondering what this was all about.

"I said," Number One commanded, injecting her tone with more authority and a little more urgency. "Get in the nearest transport, now!"

With more worried looks they headed towards their trailers and their transportation rigs that were being braced from behind them down stream by a mobile suit from the Homeguard. Middi grabbed a shield and joined the members of Alpha team on the front line. The impact was going to hit them hard, but hopefully the mobile suits would be strong enough to withstand all of that water pressure.

The mobile suits were all lined up shoulder to shoulder across the road, down on one knee. They were kneeling in order to get the lowest center of gravity possible, the best thing to do in a situation like this. Their neo titanium shields overlapped one another and had been wedged into the dirt and tilted back, this should have the effect of redirecting much of the force instead of trying to take in blunt-on.

Then she saw it. A huge surging sloshing hungry maw that rushed at them like a dark and implacable wind. It was like a demon that had been let free of its bindings and now was free to destroy everything in its path and pursued its self imposed mission with a gleeful unholy vengeance. This was a force of nature, a force against which they could do nothing more than brace themselves for the brunt of it and hope it was enough. She closed her eyes and sent up a prayer for the safety of her people as the roaring water attacked.

The wall slammed into them. It was a physical sensation that jarred her in the cockpit of her mobile suit. She'd slammed into other suits in her time or slammed into the side of transports but that was nothing compared to that first incredible collision with that raging flood. It didn't stop at the initial impact but the weight of the water bore down on the top of her shields and flowed around her suit quickly enough, the eddies pulling at her from the side. Her suit began to scrape backwards from the force of the water pushing at her and her companions. She willed with all of her strength her suit to hold its ground. She couldn't lose this fight; she had innocent civilian lives depending on her and the lives of her comrades as well. The water continued to push at the shield in front of her and there was water seeping once again into her cockpit. She had spent most of the day previously with her cockpit half-filled with water as a result of running flood-water rescue patrols. She was beginning to seriously wonder if she was ever going to feel warm and dry again.

Much more of this and I may consider growing myself some gills, she thought sourly as the shivers returned to her in full force.

She called up a rear-view in her tactics screens she was relieved to see that her civilians were doing just fine. The wall of suits and the shield she and her compatriots were bracing was taking most of the brunt of the force of water and the overspill raining down on top of her and flowing past them was less forceful. Granted, it was still powerful but the B-squad suits were bracing the transport vehicles from downstream. It looked like things were going to be just fine for them.

After an eternity of minutes the force of the initial flood subsided a bit and they were left with only the raging current of water trying to sweep the legs of their mobile suits out from under them. The vehicles were mostly submerged by water however and there were civilians climbing out of their submerged trailers and rigs to climb on top of them and escape drowning inside of them.

One problem solved and another one popped up to take its place. A commander's work was never done.

Midii paused to think for a few precious seconds. She had to get these people out of the water and someplace safe as quickly as possible. The local terrain was treacherous. She had two teams of ten mobile suits each. There were forty seven vehicles in the civilian train. Saving lives was the priority. The appropriate strategy was quickly decided upon.

"Alpha four, Alpha five, Alpha seven; drop your shields and fall back to assist Beta team move civilian transports containing civilians only," she snapped off. She didn't waste time or breath, not when the situation was so precarious. If the water kept rising, the civilians who had climbed on to the tops of their vehicles would get swept away by the rising water.

"If there's just supplies or junk in the vehicle leave it behind. Beta team, I want two suits to a vehicle; the terrain is too treacherous to expect these big trailers and rigs to try to four-by over so load as many civilians as will fit safely into a few of the vehicles and carry them upstream against the current to rendezvous with Delta team up at the dam site. Ground forces, you are to provide the escort service and assist any civilian or civilian vehicle that might be having difficulties. You have your orders, let's move them out!"

Number One was proud and pleased to note her concise orders were followed instantly and with a bare minimum of question to figure out a way to carry them out. Alpha and Beta teams had been running rescue runs all morning, so they already had a bit of a system worked out; however their rescue runs hadn't involved such... unusual civilians. How in the name of anything holy were they supposed to move the elephant car? It would take four suits to even try and lift it. They were really raising a fuss now too. She couldn't really blame them. The last thing she needed however was a stampede of panicked elephants.

"And could we get some handlers out to see to those elephants?" she called as an afterthought.

A short time later seven trailers, a group pf circus elephants, and a lot of animals in cages were carried by sets of two mobile suits marching in lock-step against the current. The rest of the trailers were transport vehicles with no civilians aboard and could wait for a later time to be picked up provided they and all the stuff contained within them didn't get washed away in the flood. The crawl towards the Rendezvous point would be slow going for the civilians and their vehicles and Midii had several things that she needed to do at that moment so she left Alpha Leader, Beta Leader and Gamma Leader (Gamma was the ground-force leader) in charge of moving the civilians to the rendezvous point and went on ahead to assess the damage and begin organizing reparations.

The site they'd chosen to make the sandbag dam against the flood water had been the best they'd been able to choose at the time. It was in a place called the Ledges in a county that had once been known as Grandledge. On one side of the river were enormous rock formations that had once been deposited by a glacial icecap eons ago. It was a geological fact that the enormous almost canyon-like stones had once been completely submerged by river water, in fact the ledges had been carved by the river water, but Midii had never heard of the rocks even being touched by the river in her lifetime, in her father's lifetime or even in her great-great-grandfathers lifetime. When she'd been a child and her father had taken her and her brothers to play and climb around on the rocks in the paths of the great forests the river had been a good distance away from the ledges. It could bee seen from the pats and from the outcroppings that broke above the trees but it had never been close enough to actually contemplate touching the ledges. The river touched the sides of the ledges now for the first time in a hundred years. Her crew had chosen to sandbag their dam in a spot there the ledge jutted out into the river (in normal times the jut was nothing more than a small obstacle to take the scenic path around). On the other side of the river was a slowly sloping hill that led back into more forest land. The hill wasn't as high as the ledges on the opposite bank but it sloped just high enough to suit their needs.

Delta team and what people could be spared from the hurried organized chaos of the construction of the high-ground base-camp were already desperately trying to salvage what they could of their structure. It had been secure before, but a raider missile had taken it out as a last parting shot before they got taken down. Vindictive bastards! The blast had taken out a third of the dam in the middle and the subsequent rush of penned-back water had widened the hole. the people working at a frantic pace to repair the damage before the storm hit had formed a picket line and were tossing sandbags to the workers scurrying around on the dam like industrious worker ants piling sandbag after sandbag like so many oversized bricks. There were other men and women on top of the three-foot-thick sandbag dam who were pounding in enormous long steel spikes on the outside of the dam wall downstream to reinforce its ability to hold. Midii heaved a purely internal resigned sigh as she submerged herself in water again (subsequently flooding her cockpit and soaking her in chilly cold silty grey water again) and waded over to lend the strength of her mobile suit to the teams of men already working there and simultaneously ordered a report from Biggs, the Delta Team Leader.

"We're trying our damnedest, no pun intended, to get these walls back up before the big storm hits Number One but its a race against time," he shouted into the mouthpiece of his transistor radio over the din of the working teams. "What with the recent attack, the relocation and the need to secure base camp, our manpower is stretched thin."

"I know. Normally I would order the reserve teams out to aid you Biggs, but I just have this horrible feeling that we'll be needing them later," Midii said back. "If ever there were a time for a raider team to strike at one of our refugee havens it would be at a time when our defenses are depletes, our defenders are exhausted and our resources stretched thin with trying to protect and provide for an entire horde of guests and a really big bad storm on its way. The situation couldn't be more perfect for them! Just do what you can."

"Will do," he acknowledged and turned back to his picket line of sandbaggers. Midii turned her suit to the stake pounders who were singing old railroad songs to keep in rhythm.

"Stand back please," she said. They clamored out of the way. She balled her suits glove into a fist and pounded on the stake. Once it was sufficiently in the ground she moved her suit on to the next. Midii and her Homeguard had learned long ago that mobile suits were even more useful as construction tools than as tools of destruction. She had just finished pounding in the last stake when the circus, the civilians and their escort team limped its way over the horizon at a crawling pace.

Here she would order the civilians unloaded and escorted back to high-ground base-camp. Alpha, Beta and Gamma teams had brought along their previously discarded neo-titanium shields. With more work by the sand-baggers the gap that had been blasted in the sand-wall would soon be small enough to be covered by welded together shields. If all went well, she could order her hard-worked Homeguard members to head back and rest up for the evening. They had all certainly earned it!

The civilians were unloaded one by one from the trailers, rigs, and whatever else had been used to carry them to this point on to the three foot wide top of the sandbag dam. It was still slippery and treacherous, everybody was wet but none the less the teams worked together to pass get every civilian over the hop from rig-door to dam-top along the rain-slick top of the wall and safely at last to dry land (well, not dry land...).

They were on the fourth vehicle when Murphy's Law intervened. The arms on one of the mobile suits had been damaged in battle and gave way under the pressure of holding up the rig with all of its passengers inside; the main box of the back of the vehicle stayed in one piece due to a lucky catch by one of the suits running rescue runs but unfortunately one of the civilian passengers riding in the front cab tumbled from her seat and into the driver-side door of the vehicle. The window shattered in impact, unable to support the full weight of the passenger. Said passenger fell out through the hole when the window broke beneath her and dropped twenty feet into the swiftly moving flood waters. A dark-haired passenger nearly succeeded in catching her before she fell out and when she dropped he leaped into a dive after her, but neglected to bring any sort of rope, float, or life-vest; essentially putting himself into the same position as the woman he'd leapt after.

Who's the more foolish; the fool or the fool who follows him? Midii wondered. She was the only other suit on rescue run duty since the other one was occupied with trying to hold up the rig so they could get the passengers off. So it fell to her. Great, it looked like she was going back in the water.

Her desperately scanning eyes caught sight of the head of the unfortunate woman as she broke surface supported by the dark-haired man who was trying to swim upstream or locate anything that might give him purchase against the torrential current. Midii quickly kneeled her suit down and popped open the cockpit of her mobile suit, all-day practice with running maneuvers like this made her movements almost deft despite clumsy chill-numbed fingers. She grabbed her suits mounting-cable and vaulted into a swan-dive from the platform. She'd been in the cold water all morning, running operations exactly like this one so the water didn't come as a shock... it was still less than pleasant. With strokes that seemed to take forever she caught up to the pair and slipped her arms and legs around the two of them around the two of them in likely the only kind of grip that would hold in a current this strong. It was not an easy hold to maintain for the current constantly pulled at the three of them trying to rip make her loose her grip and she was getting half drowned being constantly ducked under. She waited impatiently waited for the slack on her mobile-suits dismount cable to take. With a jerk like a fisherman deciding that his catch had had enough line to swallow the bait, it did.

Uh-oh, not good, Midii thought after a moment. The line should have been automatically cranking back in at that point and it wasn't. That could only mean one thing... the combined the force of the floodwater drag and their three own bodyweights was too great a pull for the weight bearing of the line and the capacity for the crank. If their position continued too long like this the cable would snap and they'd all be screwed.

Her comrades in arms were already moving to pull them in by hand but it wouldn't matter; it was the line that was too weak. There was really only one option then. No sense in the both of them going down, besides, she had an obligation. The choice was clear.

"Don't worry Miss, Sir," Midii said reassuringly as she while trying to keep from getting ducked under. "You're going to get out of this just fine. My Homeguard won't let anything happen to you."

Midii looped the cable around the young man's chest just beneath the armpits in a rescue hold and snapped the end of it to secure the woman in a rescue line hold.

"It'll be just fine," Midii said encouragingly. The serious faced young man knew precisely what she intended to do and gave a short, almost-salute-like, nod of his head to her. She returned the gesture and took a deep breath.

Midii let go. The river swiftly ripped her away but she had no intention of letting it keep her. The current carried her swiftly away in a world of ripples and grey on those occasions where Midii could keep her head above water she searched constantly for the familiar landmarks she was looking for so that she could set herself up in the correct position because she was only going to get one shot at it.

There was an old abandoned rail-road bridge (that she and her brothers had once dared each other to climb across despite the fact that it was a rotted crumbling ruin that would like give gangrene if they'd cut themselves on the rusted metal of the beams) a ways downstream from the dam site. The cement pilings and poles were still there. Midii fought to turn her body into the proper position, her feet downstream and her arms to the side so that she'd see it coming and be able to brace herself. At last she saw the pilings of the bridge up ahead and coming at her swiftly. This was not going to feel good. She braced her feet and maneuvered herself into position to hit one of the pilings dead on.

The impact jarred her but she grasped the rusty encrusted cement with hands that were numb and clumsy with cold. She clung to it like the proverbial barnacle for a minute, taxing her strength by just fighting the current.

I don't know how much more of this I can take, she thought. It had already been a long day. Paddling about in the water trying to rescue everybody and their dog all morning with nothing more substantial than a cup of coffee in her, then a battle this afternoon against raiders... plus all of the various other minutiae that seemed to get crammed into her day. She was tired. Her muscles had spent the day in a permanent state of tension shivering in the cold of her waterlogged cockpit. She felt drained, as only a day spent in the damp and chill could make you feel drained. She didn't know if her muscles had the strength in them to haul her heavy soggy ass out of the water.

"Number One!" she heard a voice call from downstream as she clung debating whether or not she had the physical strength left in her to pull herself up. She had just about decided to do it when she looked over and saw her second in command standing on top of the partially submerged Pisces suit she'd had him take command of for the battle. The suit was jetting upstream and her second was grinning like some kind of mad red-haired monkey. He tossed a line to her as he passed she caught it wearily and let him tugboat her half drowned self upstream. Ah Bryson, always there when she needed him... even if he was a smart ass. He no doubt had a whole battery of remarks thought up and was likely right now choosing the very best one. She knew why he was tugging her upstream too. It wasn't so that she could rejoin her troops; oh no, it was so he'd have an audience to laugh at his jokes made at her expense. Jerk.

They reached the dam and the suit stood for land-mode. Midii was pulled up out of the water looking precisely like a bedraggled, sodden and half-drowned kitten. Her men were cheering wildly. It was nice to be loved.

"Well boys," Bryson called, his voice pitched to carry as Midii hung at the end of the line for a moment before dropping to the top of the dam.

"She looks a little scrawny to me... think we should throw her back eh?" Her Homeguard, well accustomed to their sibling-like banter, roared with laughter.

Midii, expecting it, gave her usual reply. She flipped him the finger and said

"Shut-up Bryson."

The overcast grey sky began to fade into the smokestack grey of dusk Trowa waited alongside his sister, an unnaturally unperturbed Heero and a soaked and army-blanket covered Relena Darlian. The circus, its animals, the merchant civilians, and them had all been defended and rescued by a group of old mobile suits that despite their obvious care and maintenance were past their expiration dates and well on their way to the scrap heap. He watched as the people in the suits used their big machines to transport heavy loads of sand bags directly to the worksite so that the picket line teams could work directly on the dam itself. Once their loads had been dropped off, if they didn't have another task that would be better served by the use of the mechanical giants, they hopped out of their suits and started working alongside the others hauling sandbags into place.

No idle hands here.

"Cathy," he said, breaking the silence for a change. "Is this the Homeguard you were talking about earlier?"

"Yes," she replied. "I recognize the colors they paint on their suits."

"And their leader Number One is among them?"

"It's hard to say," Cathy replied. "From what she said, Number One travels all around this country visiting each refugee haven and showing up to lead local forces in an emergency. I'd say that this flood is a local emergency; she could be here."

"You haven't seen her though," he said.

"There are a lot of suits Trowa, and a lot of workers. It's hard to spot one person in this entire melee. If she's here we'll see her when the dust settles and the task is done."

Trowa made a non-committal noise in his throat and crossed his arms, waiting for the last of the work to finish.

Three of the midnight blue mobile suits lifted up the enormous wall of welded-together neo-titanium shields they had created and held it above their heads as they waded into the torrential flood waters churning through the gap in the dam. They positioned themselves twenty feet upstream of the sand-bag dam in front of the gap and lowered the immense metal wall into the water... vertically sideways, facing upstream. The mobile suit closest to the wall began to edge slightly to one side, forcing the water to flow around him. Trowa picked up on what they were doing; they were going to use the welded wall as a plug for the gap. Water pressure would hold the plug in place at least for a few days, long enough to finish construction and shoring up on the flood dam. It was quickly done.

The people working on the wall started clapping and cheering as the mobile suit closest downstream told everyone to call it a day, pack it up and head back to the barn. Trowa and the rest of the people that had been traveling with him were joined by sopping wet working-men and -women all wearily herding towards a collection of jeeps, trucks and other motor vehicles. Mobile suits grabbed the animal cages and lifted them up (much to the dismay and protest of the cages occupants) for easier transportation. Elephants and their handlers along with a few daring dam-workers rounded out their little parade toward wherever the barn was. Trowa found himself loaded onto a truck and wedged between his sister Catherine and a bearded guy in loose grey clothing that was soaking wet... obviously one of the men who had been working on the dam.

"...I sure hope we get a few extra req chits for this," the man said to his neighbor on the other side of him, obviously another worker like himself. "I sure am sore!"

Trowa, out of the long habits of a spy and information gatherer, kept his ears open and his mouth shut.

"You said it," his friend next to him said. "I don't think I'll ever get the kinks out of my neck, shoulders, and back come morning. I may just have to cash in a lux-chit or two and get a back-rub from Services!"

Trowa's brow furrowed in puzzlement, they weren't speaking his language; what was a Lux-chit and what was the significance of Services? Still, he continued to listen. A third person spoke up, a burly older woman.

"Hey, d'jyou guys hear yet?" she questioned.

"Hear what?" questioned the guy sitting next to him.

Ah gossip, thought Trowa. It's truly what makes the world go round. It was a relief that the people around him were so talkative, even after a day of what had obviously been hard labor; if they got to talking and he got to listening, he'd be able to easily glean a lot of information about the social and political climate of the area's population. He needed to know if these people were dangerous or not, especially with not only his family but a very important political figure mixed in among the rest of his company. And it wouldn't hurt to do a little free work for his part-time occupation among the Preventors since the opportunity had presented itself.

"Number One's in a temper. Got some bad news from those worthless gits in the capitol," the woman replied.

"You mean those Romafeller puppies?" the man sitting next to Trowa growled. "What they got ta say bout our girl?"

Oh, now this was interesting. He'd just received confirmation on two things... one, Number One was indeed in the area; and two, the Belterre Provisional government was neither respected nor liked by the average Belterre.

"I don't know for certain," the woman with the juicy news continued. "But Cora said that her brother Sergey-"

"Is that the one with the long braid?" the guy next to Trowa interjected.

"No that's the other one," the woman corrected. "Sergey is the tall skinny one with his head shaved bald."

"Bad haircut on him," the other guy commented.

"Anyway," the woman said impatiently. "Cora said Sergey was on an errand nearby when Number One stopped by our haven to meet up with her second. 'Said somethin pissed her off terrible, face like a thunderhead."

"So what was it?" the first guy asked.

"Sergey said he thought he overheard Bryson say that it was something to do with those Provies; made some announcement or other..."

"Aww they's always makin' announcements," the second guy scoffed.

"I wish they'd announce they were going to do something about these damned Raiders," the woman grumbled. "How are any of us ever going to start rebuilding if we have to worry about thugs with large guns terrorizing an honest person? That's the reason none can leave the collective safety of the camps and start building houses of our own. Not like in the old days when it was safe to even cross the countryside unguarded."

"I heard they have a city rebuilt in sector twenty-nine, where the old capitol used to be," the second guy volunteered.

"Where'd you hear that?" the first asked.

"One of the Homeguard guys traveling with Number One said so."

"So those Provies are actually doing something?" the woman said, a small note of hopefulness creeping into her voice.

"Neh," the second grunted in negation. "Just made a bunch of museums and memorials. From what I heard, it looks nice but that's about all it does. No one lives there, 'cept the Provies."

"Probably dining on caviar and living in nice houses no doubt," the guy sitting next to Trowa grumbled.

"Most likely," the second guy said, his voice tired with resignation.

"Losers," the woman said. "I for one just can't put my faith in that so-called "official" Provisional government of Belterre. Not since our supposed leaders abandoned this country back even before the going got tough. If they're our government how come they don't help us? I say, if they want my support they'll have to earn it."

"Hear hear," the second guy applauded. The first guy nodded emphatically.

It sounded to Trowa like there was a lot of dissatisfaction with the Belterre Provisional Government. Maybe it was just the three of them, or maybe it was even a local problem... with a flood and a bunch of people crammed into a camp there was bound to be a lot of grumbling (especially after a long hard day like these people had just been through) but somehow Trowa doubted that was really all there was to it.

A fourth man entered into the gossip session.

"I heard that the Provies are going to start printing their own money." He sounded and looked pretty amused. The three gossip mongers laughed as if he'd told a joke.

"Printing money eh? Won't trade in a haven that's fer sure," the woman said a trifle scornfully. "Not when havens only take ration chits, requisition chits, honor chits and luxury chits for the stuff people need."

"Refresh my memory," the second guy, younger than all of the other workers involved in the conversation (who were all in their mid-thirties) said. "Why is our government's original form of currency no longer valid? I was still pretty young back in those days."

"Well lad, our government as we knew it then collapsed in 187. The original political leaders of Belterre packed up their valuables and split when the Alliance started rapid expansion on their military programs. Without a sound government backing to keep all of the banks in line the value of the paper bill became worthless and thus..."

"Economic collapse," the woman said, a little grimly. "I can still remember it well. You could walk up to a vendor with an entire wheelbarrow full of money and you couldn't even get groceries."

"It wasn't the fact that nobody had any money," the fourth man explained. "It was the fact that because there was no faith in our government, the money they had was worthless. People's entire life savings just went out the window. The Alliance came in supposedly riding to the rescue and just started printing up more and more money like that was going to fix anything; soon you couldn't buy a loaf of bread with a lake of notes."

"Why don't the Provies just start accepting chits like the rest of us do?" the young man asked.

"Lad, those Provies may call themselves our government but they haven't the first clue about what that means," the fourth man, Trowa was now betting that he was educated in some way, either a teacher or a professor or had some form of higher education at one point.

"Yeah," the woman agreed. "They didn't know what life is like for us here in the havens. They probably don't even know about the raiders."

"Oh they know," the fourth man said. "They just don't really care. You see, the Provies see matters of government on a different level than we in the havens or our Homeguard do. For us who are so accustomed to Homeguard, the Coordinators and the sub-coordinators, we see government as being purely involved with us; our people, our needs, our governance. They look more at the broader spectrum; they see Belterre on an international level and they involve themselves with foreign affairs."

"But Belterre hasn't been on an international level for almost an entire generation," the young man protested. "Why don't they worry about involving themselves in local affairs first? Let's see them start providing a little something to help the havens start rebuilding for real instead of building up their stupid little castles and prancing around in front of a bunch of foreigners!"

Several head bobs of agreement and a few "ayes!" and "damn straights!" met the young man's heated proclamation.

"The least they could do is drop by and take a look at how we're doing. I've never heard of those Provies ever stepping foot outside of their fancy new city to mingle with us common folk. Maybe if they did they'd see beyond the ends of their noses!"

Trowa noticed with a growing sense of unease that several other citizens of Belterre had also been listening in on the same conversation he'd taken an interest in and were nodding and making noises in agreement. These people weren't just dissatisfied with the way the Provisional government was handling things, they looked downright upset with it. This definitely spelled trouble for him... a definite possibility for civil unrest and these citizens had access to an armed force, a well-trained armed force. If they were made unhappy enough there was the possibility they might make their displeasure known to the rest of the world.

"They can't even muster up the time or resources to help out in an emergency," the woman said with some heat. "The only help we can count on in any sort of emergency has been and will probably continue to be Homeguard. Let's face it, we're all we have."

By the facial expressions on the other workers in the truck it looked like things might degenerate into some kind of civil protest rally. This country was a powder keg that looked like it would bear some looking in to. He'd be certain to keep his ears sharp and his eyes peeled. After all, it was the job of the Preventors to put out fires, especially when they were still small.

Trowa looked up ahead to see the "haven" just coming into view as they topped a rise. His expression didn't change, but he grimaced inwardly.

"Well," Relena remarked softly from the other side of Catherine. "It has a nice homey "welcome to the apocalypse" feel to it, doesn't it?"

It was fortress, pure and simple. Sand-bag walls plated with metal siding surrounded the entire flattened summit and rose to a safe (and intimidating) height of ten feet. There were watchtowers built at appropriate intervals ringed all around the outer wall, next to the watchtowers were bright football stadium lights reaching towards the sky to illuminate even the darkest night, and the gate leading onto the base was one of those two-tower-and-a-crosspiece affairs that were so good for defense.

"It's good to be home!" the man seated next to Trowa said, smiling a little.

"They did a really good job for only having this place up and running for a few days," the young man said as their truck pulled up to the thick iron gate. "It a shame about the original haven though."

Trowa surmised that it had likely been lost or relocated due to the flood.

Once the trucks cleared the entrance most of the working-men and -women piled, hopped, and stampeded out of the transports and joined their own families, leaving Trowa and the members of the caravan that had been traveling along with him behind. Trowa scanned around him taking in the interior of the camp.

That's strange, he thought for a moment. Something about this place feels oddly familiar. He shrugged it off as being the feeling of the sort of familiar sameness that accompanied always traveling in camps like these; you've seen one you've them all.

Then people started to emerge from tents and the few make-shift cabins inside the camp. Trowa's trained eyes could make out the definite traces of a system of order to the structures within the walls as Catherine had described to him earlier. Several rings in a circle around the center of the camp. Each ring had one central fire-pit circled in an orderly manner by several large cabin-like structures which were in turn ringed by clusters of smaller tents... well in this case, they were raised wooden platforms on sturdy stilts with canvas roofs lashed securely to the frames; likely a precaution against the wet. From the central fire-pits, from the clusters of tent-platforms, from the main buildings around the fire pits emerged people of all ages; tiny children, young men and women, elderly folks all gathering around the trucks that held Trowa and his companions with curiosity, suspicion and a little fear written plain on their faces.

From the gathered crowd emerged an elderly careworn ascetic-looking gentleman with graying hair, a widow's peak and a definite air of calm authority. He wore a blank gold-colored metal disk around his neck, and his clothes, while no better or less worn than the peoples that surrounded him, were cut to fit. Trowa noted that there were several other people with silver metal disks around their necks that ranged to the sides of the elderly man, and with the emergence of the man with the gold disk and the group of people with the silver disks, the some of the worried looks eased from the faces of many of the people in the crowd. That confirmed if for Trowa... these people were definitely the leaders around these here parts.

The elderly man, spying the flanks of midnight blue mobile suits blocking the exit behind the trucks, relaxed a little and looked like he knew precisely what was going on. Indeed, he spread his arms and hands out in a gesture of welcome and said

"Homeguard of Belterre, Highground Haven welcomes you with open arms and offers its hospitality, however small, to you and yours."

The cock-pit of the mobile suit n the front and center of all of the other Homeguard suits popped open and the person inside of it stepped out onto the platform. The wind from the incoming storm gusted suddenly in from the side and caught the hair of the person standing on the mobile suit and lifted it like a golden banner to the breeze. Trowa froze suddenly, stock still in shock. He recognized the pilot!

His entire world seemed to freeze in place; he had the disorienting feeling of being outside of time for the one endless moment of instant recognition. It felt like all of the air had been knocked from his lungs and if his face had been as expressive as the average persons his mouth would probably have been hanging open. He knew her. The leader of Homeguard, the leader of the militia group that held armaments in this country was none other than Midii Une, ex-spy of the United Earth Sphere Alliance Military. There could be no mistake; he knew her.

Then the world snapped back into place and he was shocked into the present when she moved. Midii leapt with the ease of long practice down from the cock-pit platform of her suit (Trowa recalled that she had leapt the exact same way from the shoulder of his mobile suit back when they had been younger) and walked over to the man who had welcomed them and clasped the wrists of his extended arms in greeting.

"As the leader of Homeguard I accept your welcome and your hospitality gladly Coordinator Meitchel. It's good to see you again."

They were smiling with the familiarity of long acquaintances, so obviously the greeting was mostly a formality. At a signal from Midii, the other pilots of the suits emerged from their cockpits and leapt to the ground the join in with the people behind their fearless leader.

"May I know the number of our unexpected and honored guests so that my people can begin to see to the situation and provisioning for them?"

"We've got seventy with the circus, twelve merchants, and two regular civilians," a young man with an unruly mane of red hair who stood slightly behind and off to one side of Midii volunteered. "That's eighty-four all told. Think your people can handle it old man?"

"Bryson! Show some respect to the Coordinator here," the young blonde snapped. She turned back to the elderly man

"I'm sorry for my XO, he's an idiot."

"Not at all," Coordinator Meitchel replied good-naturedly. "It shouldn't be too much of a problem. We'll have to double up in the plats, but we've enough food in the granaries to feed them all. It was a good harvest in this part of the country."

"That's a relief!" Midii said, looking truly relieved. "I'm sorry; I didn't want to put to much of a strain on your resources Coordinator, but..."

"These things happen, I understand," the Coordinator said as the men and women wearing silver disks stepped forward and started counting off and dividing the rescued civilians in the trucks. To Trowa's surprise and dismay his sister Catherine hoisted herself up onto the cross-piece of the truck they had ridden in along with the other passengers and called out

"Number One! Hey! Midii! Over here!"

The blonde woman turned and looked over her shoulder to where his sister waved frantically. Trowa ducked to one side to hurriedly blend in with the rest of the performers and merchants piled into the truck with him. He didn't want that girl seeing him, he didn't want her recognizing him, and he certainly didn't want her talking to him!

Midii's face lit up in surprise and delight as she obviously recognized Catherine. She quickly bowed to the Coordinator, gesturing that her second was to take her place, and hurried over to see his sister. Trowa scowled as Catherine leapt down from the back of the truck and the two young women embraced each other like they were old friends.

"Oh my god girl, how are you!" Cathy asked as the two of them exchanged kisses on the cheek familiarly. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

"It's great to see you Cathy!" the little blonde traitor replied with every evidence of real delight in her body language. "It's been ages, how have you been?"

The two of them made to walk off with every sign of being two best girlfriends ready to dish and catch up on old times while Trowa, Heero and Relena were kindly yet efficiently escorted away from the vehicles and deeper into the camp by one of the people with a silver disk around their necks.

Trowa didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit.

Leaving Heero and Relena to take care of the details with silver-disk Trowa immediately tailed the two of them. He didn't want his only family falling into the hands of his enemy. She was the leader of a force of arms with unknown strength and capability. The situation would bear careful watching, and if he hung around close enough, he would likely hear information that would be far more useful than a lot of peasant gossip.

She listened with one Ear while her guest and friend chattered on about her recent life at the circus, her younger brother and the two new lions that had been born recently. Midii liked Catherine, she genuinely did. The older woman had an open friendliness and an innocence about her that Midii wished she still had; but she really couldn't afford to be innocent. Still, Catherine was someone she'd like to protect and see safe; people like were rare in this world, people who would take you in without a second thought, without wanting to know your past or where you've come from or what you'd done... people who would accept you as you were and do their best to make you feel better when you were down. Catherine was a rare soul indeed, Midii envied her (ever-absent) little brother a little; he got to spend all of his time being taken care of by a wonderful big sister. What could ever possess the idiot to want to leave? If Midii were part of Cathy's family she'd face hell itself to protect it... then again, facing hell itself for the sake of protecting her family wasn't strange to her.

"Midii! You're soaked to the skin; you're going to catch a chill!" Catherine scolded. "Get out of those wet things and somewhere warm and dry before you catch your death. Honestly, who takes care of you?"

Midii grinned wryly at her; her smile more than a little self-deprecating.

"No one really. It's my responsibility to provide for my people. I am the nominal commander of Homeguard, my people will eat before I eat, rest before I rest and-"

"Yes yes miss martyr-in-training. You know young woman, you have a real self-sacrifice complex!" Cathy said tartly. The taller older woman snatched up a dark green wool army blanket hanging over a line and whipped it around the young woman she was scoldings thin shoulders.

"And put this on before you shiver yourself to pieces."

"Yes Cathy," she said with mock-humility. "I bow to your superior wisdom."

"And when's the last time you had a descent meal? I told you last time that you need to start eating better, I'll bet you don't weigh ninety pounds soaking wet with your clothes on. You need to start eating better and taking better care of yourself, just look at those circles under your eyes."

"Yes, oh good advice guru!"

"I'm serious, you're going to wear yourself to a wraith if you keep at it the way you are. Running patrols in your suit all day with barely anything to eat, and don't try to look innocent with me, then coming home and working until late at night. You grab unhealthy food at odd hours and when you do eat, you're not getting enough of the right things!"

"My life is but to serve!" Midii said bowing with her hands pressed together before her in mocking servility.

Catherine shot the young woman a mock glare and put her hands on her hips.

"That's the problem!" she said. Cathy was just getting started on her big-sisterly scold-rant. Midii knew from past experience that once her nurturing instincts had been aroused there was little besides total and complete compliance that would satisfy her. Midii knew it when she saw it because she had been the same way once upon a time and she quickly headed Cathy off with

"So," Midii said disarmingly. "How's that troublesome brother of yours? Still popping off at the drop of a hat?"

"He's gotten better," Cathy said defensively.

"Uh-huh," Midii said, obviously not buying it. "If he were my little brother, I'd have him caged alongside his beloved lions. I certainly wouldn't allow him to go marching off to fight in every single little dust-up and debacle that blew through out there. That's the trick to having younger siblings; you have to be firm with them. Why when I was living at home, my younger brothers minded me because they knew if they didn't I'd have their hind ends!"

"Midii, it's been what? Eight, nine years since you lived at home with your family? Of course they minded you, they were too young not to. Trowa's different. He's definitely got a mind of his own, and I don't think he'd take kindly to me treating him like some willful adolescent."

"Betcha my last honor-chit that he is a willful adolescent," Midii riposted. "He should be at home protecting you instead of gallivanting off with his friends causing death destruction and massive amounts of property damage."

Then she smiled mischievously and suggested

"You could chain him up in your trailer."

"If I could catch him," Cathy retorted.

Midii adopted a fake mafia accent as she said

"You just say the word... me an' the boys we'll take care of it for ya."

Cathy laughed.

"I'm serious," Midii said, the smile on her face belying her words. "I know some people who know some people."

"Know them? Midii, last I checked, you lead them!"

"Guilty as charged," she said with false ruefulness. "And a scraggly lot they are too!"

"I resent that," a young man, maybe a year or two older than Midii (and just about Cathy's age) said as he joined the two women outside of a patched and worn canvas tent. He had scarlet hair in an untamed tumble down to his shoulders.

"I don't see why, Bryson," Midii said with nonchalance. "You're the scraggliest of the lot of them."

"Now is that any way to talk to your dearest second in command?" he said lightly. Midii gave him a flat look; he grinned and leaned over to stage whisper to Cathy

"She's just grumpy because she hasn't had her nap today."

Midii rolled her eyes and turned to Cathy.

"I'd love to stay here and chit-chat with you Cath but you know I've got fifty billion things I have to do," she said with the swift, barely comprehensible babble of a commander giving someone a quick run-down before they had to hurry off to attend to something else.

"I have to meet with the Coordinator to discuss defense of the Haven and its granaries, followed by another meeting with the scouts from this cell of Homeguard for a final report on this sector, then Bryson and I need to make arrangements for the defense against the Raiders now that they've stepped up their activities, and that's not mentioning the reports from all the different sectors that are likely waiting for me on my desk and all of the other stuff that's likely going to come up to bite me in the ass. See sub-Coordinator Hadrian about your plat assignment don't forget to collect your reqie-chits, I recommend warming up in the saunas before you head to the caf for some dinner. I gotta go, no rest for the wicked you know."

"Slow down there girl," Bryson said with a disarming bat of his hand. "You've been going non-stop since harvest and I know for a fact that you've caught maybe a grand total of ten hours of sleep in the last two days; you've been up since dawn this morning running rescues and haven't had a thing in your stomach besides that mug of hot spiced cider since shortly after the early shift breakfast."

"Tattle-tale," Midii muttered as she caught the full brunt of Cathy's reproachful look.

"I'll handle the meeting with Meitchel and the report from the scouts. YOU go shower and warm up in the sauna, you've been shivering all day and you don't even look like death warmed over... because you're not warmed over."

Midii looked like she was going to protest even as Cathy put one arm around the smaller woman's shoulder before she could even think to escape.

"But-" Midii began.

Bryson turned her just as firmly and they both started walking her away from the command tent.

"Then, once we're nice and toasty," Cathy continued without missing a beat, winking to her co-conspirator. "We're going down to that wonderful caf of yours and you're going to eat until I say you're full."

"But-"

"After that, then you can head directly to bed to get some well-deserved rest," Bryson said cheerfully, obviously enjoying himself bossing his nominal commander around.

"But-"

"Don't worry about it, there's always plenty of time for trouble," Bryson cajoled. "You owe it to your dependents to be well rested and in top fighting condition."

"But-"

"A full glass holds no water," Cathy added.

"But- but-"

"Butter on those scones? Why certainly," Bryson said. "I'll see to it."

And with that the red-haired one kipped off to attend to matters leaving Midii to Catherine's bossy tender mercies. The girl was obviously so exhausted she gave in with only a token struggle to assuage her conscience and allowed herself to be led away to one of the large structures ringed around one of the large central fire pits near the western edge of the camp too tired to be aware of their very discreet tailer.

Trowa looked around from his unseen spot just outside the tiny tent-like structure he'd followed his sister and the little resistance leader to. A tray with big bowls of hearty stew and several loves of bread were brought over by one of the people wearing a little silver disk, probably as a mark of deference to the rank and importance of the visitor inside the little tent-like structure.

Everyone else in the camp was too busy with their activities to pay any attention to him. It was meal time for one shift, with bowls of hearty stews and trenchers of warm bread served alongside ale, moonshine, or water being passed out by people who had probably drawn that as their lot for the evening. There were groups of people both men and women hurrying to bring in the laundry before the big storm on the horizon struck, there was the bang and clatter of another shifts dishes being done, and the frantic rushing of preparations to get all of their guests (and their animals) settled in before the storm hit, people rushed to and fro securing any loose articles and double-tying lines and adding extra ties to canvas roofs; children were laughing, chasing each other around in impromptu games of tag under the watchful eye of some of the older folks of the camp... it looked like a healthy life here in the havens, well relatively anyway. There was enough food to feed everyone, the water was sanitized, there was structured organization for tasks to be accomplished, likely a penal system in place, and everyone seemed healthy enough there wasn't any disease that he could see. How did all of this fit together and what did Midii have to do with it?

He set himself up to listen in as Cathy and Midii discussed whatever it was they were going to discuss, but instead of talking about the numbers in Homeguard, how man weapons they were carrying, their strengths and weaknesses, or something else equally important or interesting they insisted on talking about inconsequential little details like who was dating who and who had broken up with who and other girly stuff. For the first twenty or so minutes Cathy talked about nearly every single detail going on in her life while Midii kept saying happily that it was warm inside the little sauna. He'd been a little surprised that Cathy and Midii had hit it off so well and so suddenly but there seemed to be something about the woman that inspired people to trust her. It was like the girl had a little magic Trust-me Aura hanging around her. It had pulled him in and ended a chapter of his life tragically he would be damned if he'd let the same thing happen to someone he cared about, to the one he protected. He resignedly settled himself in for a long wait.

"...ember this one time that Bryson had this fling with these two girls in the same haven at almost the same time and when they both found out about it, 'cause in a community that small everybody knows everybody's business, well anyway when they both found out about it, it took two of my men, all of the camps prefects, two sub-coordinators an omni bunds and me three hours to sort the mess out," Midii said with the air of someone imparting a juicy piece of gossip. They'd been at it for what felt like hours! Trowa rolled his eyes and hoped against hope that they'd start with the more intimate-secret type gossip, stuff that girls only tell other girls they're close to that had to do with what they were afraid of and how many troops they had under their command.

"He sounds like a lot of trouble, why do you keep him around?" Cathy asked. "Is there a little unspoken attraction going on?"

"Eeew! Are you crazy? With him! Not happening. I keep him around because we've been through a lot together; he's like my own family now. I don't think I could handle all of this without him."

"Well that's pretty honest of you... though certainly a lot less interesting that the unspoken attraction thing. Are you sure you're not at least a little attracted to him?"

"Nope. It'd be like incest. He's like my own brother. That's why I boss him around so much you see."

"Ah. So tell me about how things have changed, I mean... how's everything going?"

Midii sighed and said

"Not so well really. Even with the harvest in, I've got to worry about how best to allocate supplies among all of the havens so that everybody can eat and not just the ones who brought in a good haul. And with those Raiders attacking from all sides of the borders, my Homeguard forces are stretched thin. I can't seem to find enough trained personnel to fill all of the positions I need. It's true that we got a harvest in this year, but we've had just one trial after another over and over. First there was a series of strikes by the Raiders along the havens in sectors forteen, nine, seven and ten shortly after harvest which weakened the strength of the Homeguard in that because it took out some of the fighters stationed there and the suits had to be repaired with parts we didn't have; so me and my mobile troops had to hurry over there to fill in for the ground troops that got taken out of commission. I had to leave a small detachment behind as well as staff part of that fort's medical wing, so my traveling troops are only at half strength right now. Its a problem because patrolling rescue runs in an emergency situation is best done with a fully staffed team. And even only at half strength I still have to worry about running transport security so that the few traders I can get to pass through my country and trade with Belterre don't have to worry about their supply caravans. They are the only real source of income we have and even that is scarcely enough to cover expenses."

"I thought that your Homeguard was only a military organization Midii."

"No. No we're a lot more than that. I have my people from a lot of different backgrounds and they're all trained in a wide variety of skills out of necessity. We're part patrol force, part circuit judge, part national defense, part disaster relief, part rescue runners, part construction workers, part triage staff, part farmer, and part...whatever else the moment requires. You see national defense is only part of what Homeguard does, basically it our mission to take care of the civilians, to protect them."

"So you're not interested in say, taking over the world or causing problems outside your borders..." Cathy pursued.

Thank-you Cathy! he thought with relief. Finally, now they were getting somewhere. He'd have to remember to do her an extra favor later to thank her for what she was doing now... these were precisely the questions he needed answers to.

"Are you crazy?" Midii's voice replied. "I have enough problems to take care of inside our borders. But that reminds me, there was something I wanted to ask you about."

"Go ahead," said Cathy openly.

"A couple of months back a cell of my Homeguard in sector twenty seven along the western border picked up a small armed force invading the edges of our borders. My men said they were obviously not Raiders nor were the traders or merchants and that they looked like they were spying about. They were poking around, looking for people to talk to; they even tried to approach one of the Havens but my people pulled back within their walls and wouldn't come in but the unusual thing about them was that their military insignia's didn't match any of the ones we know of. We thought they must be some kind of para-military organization, an armed force that has no real official backing that is, but now I'm not so certain. They've made a few attempts to contact us, unfortunately I can't afford to let them near us or any of the havens we protect and we can't receive their electronic attempts to open communications as our equipment is one short step away from the garbage heap. I don't know who they are or what they want. My people have just been sneaking up on them, disarming them and escorting them to the border because frankly we don't know enough about them to judge whether they're friend or foe."

"Why don't you know anything about them? If they're a well established group your people should be able to identify them right?" she asked.

"The information I have of the world beyond the borders of this poor country is sketchy at best. Our electronics and communication systems are pretty primitive; it's capable of local broadcast only. We use the comm system to maintain communications between the Homeguard cell-fort and the Havens in a particular sector but the range is extremely limited, mostly we can't even reach sector to sector and we have to rely on message runners for most communications between sectors. All of the news we get concerning the world outside of the borders of Belterre comes from the trade caravans or from travelers through our country like yourself, but word of mouth is often unreliable. I'd send a team out to do some reconnaissance beyond the border but my forces are already stretched too thin. Any information you can give me concerning this threat would be helpful."

"What did the insignia look like?" Cathy asked. "Maybe I can tell you who it is."

"A stylized P," answered Midii. "They came wearing weapons but they haven't been overtly hostile. I do not like making decisions based on little to no information but with the way things are going I will have to make some decisions very shortly and I don't have the resources to spend on ferreting out information on two possible enemies. If at all possible, I'd like to concentrate all of my energy on only one."

"What do you mean?" Cathy questioned, sounding alarmed. Trowa could have kissed his sister right then, thank goodness for the female propensity for sharing their troubles with one another.

"Well I don't want what I'm about to tell you getting out so I'm going to swear you to secrecy," Midii lowered her voice so Trowa had to lean a little closer to hear what she said. He was triply glad of his acrobatic balance ability; anyone else would have lost their balance, tipped over, and fell through the cloth roof.

"Only I and a few select others know about it," Midii continued.

"I'm the soul of discretion."

"It concerns a group of people within our borders. They say that they're farmers but there's nothing to farm. They've built up a small fortified city every bit as heavily defensible as a Haven but here's the odd part... they only just moved in at the end of the wars. Which leads me to the question of why? Why build fortified cement walls and watchtowers, why build holders for munitions and explosives, why train a small army inside their defenses... why do all of this when they only real threat to worry about is the Raiders? The fort itself is enormous; I could probably fit four Havens in there with room to spare but there's only about twenty people inside that we know of. This is where it starts getting tricky, you see all I have to go on are instincts; I have no proof. They've cooperated with every single inspection that I've sent in the look around their little campground and every single time we turn up nothing. We can't find any munitions only empty holders for them, we can't find any empty tunnels or underground bunkers only "storage cellars" and the people inside their little fiefdom look healthy and well fed but not like fighters. No one wears uniforms or carries any sort of weapon and my people have been over every inch of that place but haven't found any trace of weaponry. It's frustrating, I know they're hiding something but I can't find it. I know they're very dangerous somehow but I don't know how. They worry me, they've worried me for months and they still worry me. My people say that they are beginning to move. I just know that it won't be long before they begin to stretch forth their hand, and the first thing that they go after will be the ones they are closest to, that's me and that's the people I protect."

"Well if it's any consolation I can tell you who the people poking around on the edges of your border are," Cathy said brightly. "You don't need to worry about them, they're the good guys."

"Humph!" Midii snorted scornfully. "The United Earth Sphere Alliance were the good guys too, but they did plenty of things that were in all ways evil and despicable."

"The Preventors are different," said Catherine.

"That's what they all say," Midii said cynically.

"It's true and I can prove it to you," Cathy said. Trowa felt a sudden jolt of alarm go through him.

"Oh yeah?" Midii said interestedly. "How?"

"I'll bring one to talk with you," she said. Trowa's unease grew ten-fold. "I know you don't trust anyone or anything you can't meet with face to face so I'll ask one of them to come and meet with you so you can sit down and talk... get their measure."

"You'd do that for me?" she said interestedly. "Oh wait, how soon? I'm only going to be in this area for a little while longer."

"How about tonight?"

Ohh-no Cathy! he thought in exasperation.

"Tonight? That fast? You must be very well connected," Midii said, sounding a little impressed.

"I know some people who know some people," Cathy said, sounding a little pleased with herself.

"How far up in the ranks are we talking here? I'm not saying I don't want to meet with your Preventors but I don't want some minor little undersecretary to the administrative assistant's hairdresser or something like that. I need someone who's reasonably high in the ranks and has the authority to make meetings like this, or at the very least can get the authority," Midii said.

"He's friends with their Chief Preventor," Cathy said. Trowa knew right then and there that Cathy was talking about him. He also knew right then and there that he was going to take the meeting. It was a golden opportunity, the fish had all but flopped into his boat and presented itself belly up for serving, he'd be a fool to turn away from it on the basis of simple dislike for the person involved. Trowa was no fool but that didn't mean he had to like the situation either.

"Then I'll take your word for it," Midii said cheerfully. "I'll meet with your... Preventor tonight. Send him to my command tent at ten o'clock, or is that too late for him?"

"I'm sure it will be fine."

"Good, I wanted to give him ample time to prepare but not too much time so that he has time to come up with some kind of trap."

"You're as paranoid as ever. You think everything is a trap."

"I learned my lessons young and it's how I'm still alive today."

Midii was a little bemused by Cathy. She genuinely liked the young woman, who was only a few years older than Midii herself. If Midii had a big sister, she'd want her to be like Cathy. Catherine was someone she shared an understanding with because Midii knew how it felt to lose a younger brother; actually she knew what it felt like to lose several younger brothers. There was an empty place that never seemed to grow smaller, it was an empty place built of not-knowing, of always wondering... were they alive? Had they somehow survived and were looking for her? She never stopped looking for them.

She hadn't seen her precious family in years. The Alliance had betrayed her as she had betrayed that boy with no name and his rebel company. Just deserts perhaps. The memory of her flight home and the events that had taken place when she'd arrived still made her throat ache with suppressed tears. She consciously suppressed the memory and willed the ache welling up inside of her to subside.

She still had work to do.

Midii was truly full from the meal Catherine had all but stuffed down her throat while they'd conversed inside that blessedly warm sauna-tent. Midii had enjoyed a rare little bit of being taken care of and fussed over at the hands of the young woman with exaggerated maternal instincts but she was beginning to sympathize a bit with the mysterious young Trowa's desire to pop off on occasion; Cathy was like a mother hen with only one chick.

Well, those reports weren't going to read themselves. She still had a few details to wrap up in this sector before she and her company moved on to the next trouble spot. With the way things had been shaping out the next trouble spot looked to be a real doozy. She hadn't been exaggerating to Catherine when she'd said that the group fortifying themselves inside her borders worried her; they worried her so much that she was seriously considering asking for outside support. A group called Sacred Omega had filled out for a land-requisition a year or two back, setting themselves up as an "Anachronistic farming commune." They seemed like a reasonably good group of people on the surface; they were polite and cooperated with every inspection and weapons-search the Homeguard requested, but their philosophies were a little... off. The thing that bothered her most was the fortress they had built square in the middle of their land boundaries. There were underground bunkers and tunnels, ten-foot high fences with barbed wire, fortified gates and storehouses and she just knew they were hiding something. Her Homeguard had reported that they had been receiving late night visitors that dropped in by air when it was still dark out, but when her Homeguard showed up the next morning for a friendly visit and some tea there was no trace of anything suspicious going on... which only made her more suspicious.

Then aside of dealing with the trouble spot called Sacred Omega (the Belterre Provisional Government never bothered with inquiring about it let alone investigating it) she still had the Raiders to deal with. They were picking off her forces bit by bit and that was yet another reason Midii wanted to know anything at all that she could about this mysterious Preventors group. She needed help, and badly. If she didn't get some form of aid from somewhere it would only be a matter of time before the Raiders managed to disintegrate her forces.

"You asked to see me Number One?" came a voice from her tent flap. It wasn't her mysterious Preventor visitor but a familiar man named Jonathan Carter, the leader of the local cell of Homeguard and the one who had called for her aid in the local disaster relief. He was a very handsome man in his mid-twenties with raven dark hair and gorgeous grey-blue eyes, he was a little older than Midii liked, but cute nonetheless. He reminded her of Peirce Brosnan... she'd always had a crush on Peirce Brosnan.

"Yes, please come in," she said. She sipped at her still-warm mug of tea. Her muscles felt limp and drained now that she was warm. The cold had sapped at her strength steadily through out the day and then the warmth of the sauna had relaxed her as well as thawed her out so she was feeling the full extent of her exhaustion from a trying day and then some. But she knew she couldn't afford to relax, not now. She also knew that this upcoming week was going to be trying, just like last week and the week before that and the week before that for about as far back as she could remember.

"I wanted to inquire about the status of the reserves," Midii said, her tone brisk as she brushed away her thoughts of her resignation to duty.

"We have the usual ten for the night-shift to man the walls and watchtowers, twenty-four rested men and women set aside on the groundpounder unit, another twenty who'll pull double if we ask them to, and then we have all seven of our suits that repaired and maintenanced and ten rested pilots."

"Excellent. I want a full patrol up on the walls searchlights out and ready, plus ask your rested units to sleep lightly and in their uniforms."

"You expect an attack then?"

"Always Carter," Midii said with a small wry smile. "But tonight more so than usual, if there were ever a time to attack and overrun the Haven this would be a good one. The Haven itself is just newly built without all the defenses and escape routes that a Haven normally has built in yet, its defenders are tired from a full day of rescue runs, its mobile forces are at half strength due to an earlier battle and there's a really large storm on the way making visibility from the watchtowers poor to nil."

"Right, I see your point," he said. "I'll see to it."

"Thank-you. If you require anything further I'll be here in the command tent," she said her tone a rather tired dismissal. Midii didn't want to come off as dismissing, but she had a lot to do.

"So lets see," she muttered to herself, picking up a sheaf of paper from the leader of one of her cells in sector seven. They had had a problem with their crops and were asking the Homeguard to guard a civilian transport group going from Greenveiw Haven on the eastern side of that sector to their own; as Greenview Haven had offered some of their own surplus as relief supplies.

It was not an unusual request to make; the Havens made such use of Homeguard a commonality as it was the only way to insure that the precious supplies carried between the cooperative Havens made it to each other intact and (usually) unmolested. The reason Midii was bothered by it in this instance was for two reasons; the fact that her forces were already spread too thin to make fighting the Raiders on so many fronts viable and the fact that the government, which should have been the one taking care of a mess like this, had yet to make any sort of appearance. Then there was the additional matter about that same so-called government, which had casually turned down an honest request for aid from its people, had just declared to only ones standing up and doing any defending had just been declared a "terrorist group."

She'd been seething about that all day since Bryson had given her the news. The injustice of it all really pissed her off. What right did those stupid Provies have to declare her Homeguard a terrorist group! What right did the Provisional Government have to declare anything, and just what the hell were they doing over there while they were supposed to be taking care of the people and governing the land!

Midii tried to clamp down on her rising frustration and anger. It was a familiar emotion but it would do no good, it never did any good. She wasn't even supposed to be doing all of this, defense against the raiders, attending to internal matters, allocating food supplies, protecting her people, disaster relief and relocation... those were all things the government was supposed to be doing so how was it she kept getting shafted with it? She shouldn't have had to worry about any of it, she was just supposed to be a regular civilian just like all of the other refugees, so how was it they kept turning to her? That was what the government was for so why did she have to deal with it all.

Tears of frustration stung her eyes. It was too much. It was all just too much. Even with Bryson to help and the Coordinators running the Havens it was still too much for one person to handle. It wasn't just one thing after another, not even close; it was several things all at once. It was the Raiders, it was Sacred Omega, it was food clothing and shelter for everyone in the Havens, it was defense along the trade and supply routes, it was keeping out fire and disease, it was floods, it was storms, it was the encroaching winter, it was every single fragging problem loaded onto her desk. Her Homeguard was ill-equipped and understaffed, she couldn't afford to pay them and the closest she could come to a reward for them was to keep their families safe and fed. It wasn't fair!

She sighed. It wasn't fair, but that was the way it was and the way it would always be. Someone had to defend them; someone had to look out for them; if not her then who? That Provisional Government? Ha! They were so wrapped up in their own petty world that they didn't even know about the Havens much less the conditions inside of them. They ignored honest requests for aid and supplies and then turned and persecuted the only ones trying to do anything to help. It pissed her off, and it frustrated her.

That things had gotten so bad she needed to ask for help from the outside goaded her pride, deeply stung at it as a matter of fact, but it came down to what she was able to do on her own and what she was unable to do on her own. She'd gathered up the meager forces known as Homeguard, she'd banded the refugees together and they'd all built the Havens, she'd established patrolled routes and a basic infrastructure, they'd beaten back the armies that had ridden across this poor country by making the price of victory too high to make it worthwhile once upon a time, and they'd done all of this without help from the outside. She and the people of this land had accomplished a lot with very little but she needed to be able to do more, there had to be a way she could fix all the problems if she could only just think of it.

Being able to destroy the entire Raider fleet would be a very good start.

For a moment she looked at her map centering on the sea-side cliffs in sector twelve and the great slumbering beast she had locked away in it. She could use it; she'd done it before, the voice of temptation whispered in her ear. She probably had enough fuel and munitions to last for some time, all she had to do was go there, take it out and use it. She could control it... if she used it, she'd be unstoppable, none of the raiders would stand a chance against her, she could wipe them out and her people would be that much more safe. Oh she was tempted, so very tempted.

Do it, part of her whispered. Go get it and use it to wipe out the Raiders, then Sacred Omega; whatever their plans for the future might be they would think twice before attacking any of the Havens with such a powerful protector on their side.

NO! she told herself forcefully. What was I thinking! I can't use it, it's too dangerous. I swore only as a last resort and I don't think were that desperate yet. 

But that only left the question of how much longer it was before they became that desperate.

Maybe it won't come to that, she argued with herself. If I can get the measure of those Preventors and if they're as good as Cathy seems to think maybe I can get their assistance in ridding Belterre of the Raiders or at least Sacred Omega. 

That was an awful lot of ifs and maybes. She'd had a pretty bad experience; actually she'd had several really bad experiences, in relying on the word of the so-called "good guys." What if those Preventors were nothing more than the kind of officious bastards that the Earth Sphere Alliance had been made of?

If that was the case she'd just go it alone. There had to be a way to get the Raiders off her back long enough for her to deal with this Sacred Omega problem. Midii was just glad that Sacred Omega didn't have any weapons stored away, if she had to fight a series of battles both along the borders and smack in the middle of her own territory she'd be wiped out in no time at all. Unless of course, she used It.

Midii suppressed a small shudder. Just the thought of that thing gave her the screaming willies. No, she'd sealed it away at a location she'd never told anyone about and she had no intention of unleashing it, not unless she was all out of options. She just hoped it never came to that because she had a feeling that the thing she'd sealed away was one of those things that were never meant for mortal hands.

She sighed, back to the task at hand, she still had a laundry list of reports and requests for aid and supplies to go through tonight and very thin resources to try to allocate to cover them all. As ever she would do her best. Even if wasn't supposed to be her responsibility, her people looked to her to take care of them and she had to do her best to be worthy of that faith they placed in her.

Next time on Legacy: Trowa and Heero meet with the leader of Homeguard……

_"We both know that your past history with this girl this Midii Une will have some bearing on the present," Heero stated._

_"That's what experience is for."_

_"I'm simply saying that it may color your judgment of her current character." _

An opening agreement is reached….

**_"They're hostile?" Une asked._**

****

**_"No. Agreeable; amenable in fact. They wish open negotiations and reach an accord. They have unfriendly neighbors however, and not enough manpower to deal with them on top of all of the other situations they're dealing with."_**

****

**_"How unfriendly?"_****_ Une asked. _**

****

**_"Very." Heero replied shortly. "Possibly explosively unfriendly. I need a way to extract the dove without arousing suspicions in this area."_**

****

And Midii discovers something very, very unpleasant…….

_"That's a lot men."_

_"That's a bloody awful lot of men."_


	3. In which a number of agendas are discuss

"I will be blunt," Heero said.

"Are you ever anything other?" Trowa replied. Heero ignored him. The two of them were walking toward the command tent ten minutes before the scheduled meeting dressed in their less formal Preventors uniforms. The two of them had had a scratchy mobile phone conversation with Lady Une via satellite feed a short while ago when Trowa had come to Heero with the news of their impending meeting and the Lady had given them both authority to act in her stead to hold the meeting and a set of parameters. However there were still one or two details the two of them needed to work out before they walked into that meeting. Around them the camp was making its last finishing preparations to batten down for the blow; the air had chilled and the wind had picked up bring it with it the ozone scent of rain and lightning... everyone else was too preoccupied with preparing for the storm to notice them so their conversation went unobserved and they could speak freely albeit very quietly.

It was not a good time to be discussing which of the two of them was going to take the initiative in the meeting. Trowa felt that since he had had prior experience with the leader of the militia when she hadn't been the leader of Homeguard, he should be the one the direct the interrogation... er, conference. Heero felt that Trowa, professional though he was, might let his bias color his reading of the woman as well as of the situation.

"We both know that your past history with this girl this Midii Une will have some bearing on the present," Heero stated.

"That's what experience is for."

"I'm simply saying that it may color your judgment of her current character."

Heero wasn't giving her a break, or even the benefit of the doubt, he never did. What he was doing was ensuring that all factors were within acceptable levels of control. The last thing he needed at these very sensitive opening stages of negotiations with a possible power was to spook her off or make her mistrust them in any way. The presence of an individual she had such an encounter with early on could possibly have a very detrimental effect... or a very positive effect, depending on how things went. He needed to be able to walk into that tent with one hundred percent certainty that the other half of his team was...

"Current character?" Trowa had questioned.

"We both know that people can change over time, just look at Lady Une or Relena," Heero said. "When we enter that command tent to meet with this Number One we represent Preventors, and the organization needs someone who can accurately assess the military leader she is as she exists now. We can't afford to let your past experience with her cloud your judgment."

"My judgment remains clear. I don't have any problems with her." Trowa had a face like a stone, absolute zero in the expression arena. He could and often did have a poker face that even Heero could only envy.

Heero paused looked steadily at his comrade. It wasn't a skeptical look, it wasn't any kind of look, but as was usual with the two of them the silence said it all. At last Trowa relented.

"Perhaps I am less than objective when it concerns Midii Une," he at last allowed.

"In a situation such as the one you described to me in which you left a lot unsaid I would say that it would be more than anyone, even people like you and me, to see with complete objectivity. Betrayal hurts, and it lingers."

"Yes. It does, and it also makes me wonder what she wants with the Preventors," Trowa muttered darkly. "I can't trust this and I know you don't like this any better than I do."

"But I'm willing to hear what she has to say, there may be a way to negotiate disarmament and an open alliance with the Preventors by meeting with her peacefully like this. If that's possible I want to see that it happens. Aside of that, Midii Une has your sister to vouch for her." Heero pointed out.

"Cathy would take in a Gundam pilot... two of them as a matter of fact," Trowa said with a small smile, or what passed for one with him.

"What's that mean?" Heero asked wryly.

"You and I both know we're trouble," Trowa said. "But Cathy believes the best of everybody whether or not they necessarily deserve it."

"I've made my own observations about your Midii Une," Heero said.

"She's not mine."

Heero continued as if he hadn't heard Trowa.

"She puts a lot into the protection and defense of these civilians, that's time, resources, and effort she could easily be putting somewhere else and for a lot more profit. She could have killed all of the Raiders yet she disarmed them and let them go. She well liked by the civilian populace, that alone doesn't mean she has good character or good intentions but it speaks strongly of her deep involvement with these people. That's something the Belterre Provisional Government certainly doesn't have going for them, in fact I would say the opposite is true."

"You've been a mercenary; you know that the goodwill of the civilian populace is important for acquiring safe and easy passage across lands" Trowa argued. "And you know as well as I do that people will accept even the harshest of dictators or the craziest of fanatics in a time of desperation if it means that they'll get some measure of structure and safety back into their lives."

"That's true, but I have an instinct that is telling me the leader of Homeguard isn't any of the former," Heero persisted.

"And I have an instinct that says lock her up and throw away the key," Trowa rebutted.

"That's not an instinct, that's a cry for justice... or revenge."

"It's also possible that you're so willing to give her the benefit of the doubt because she helped you save Relena," Trowa pointed out. He had the feeling his comrade wasn't listening to him; he didn't know how dangerous Midii could be.

"It's possible, but not likely. My objective is to get the true measure of the leader of Belterre's Homeguard as she is and to do that I can't afford to be biased. Thus you may be a liability. My secondary objective is to learn everything I can about this militia and the Havens and in that you may be an asset."

"You intend that I should guilt-trip her into giving away information," Trowa said knowingly. Their thoughts often ran along similar tracks. Of the five youths who'd once piloted Gundams it was probably Heero and Trowa who were the most alike.

Heero nodded once.

"She may be more willing to share if there is someone in the room that she once trusted, or, more importantly, feels she owes a debt to," Heero said.

Trowa nodded. It appeared that Heero was going to proceed cautiously, the lesson he had learned with the slaying of Field Marshal Noventa was still with him and he was reluctant to act without adequate information. Trowa had to unwillingly accede that perhaps in this case it was better this way, he had an active dislike for Midii which probably would color his judgment; but the thought of being a menacing presence during the crucial meeting had a certain amount of savor to it. Trowa would never have guessed that he'd have turned out to have a vindictive streak hiding inside of him.

The appointed hour was almost upon her. Midii wondered idly if she should change clothes; the clothes she had on right then were the official/unofficial uniform of Homeguard; midnight blue pilots' coveralls with a silver fleur-de-lis on the right breast. Like everything else in their rundown little country it was worn, very worn. The cuffs had given up a long time ago and now the collar was starting to go, the hems were a bit frayed and the material was lightened along the lines where it habitually creased. But like everyone else in Belterre, aside of perhaps the Provies, she didn't own anything better. Midii didn't feel like she was really suited to receive what amounted to foreign dignitaries in her country, or at least as close as the Havens had ever come to receiving foreign dignitaries in her country.

Still, she did the best she could to straighten up; she washed her face in a small bowl of water and brushed out her hair even though it was still damp and unmanageable. She tidied up the command tent, not that there was much to tidy up; two battered trunks and a folding table with all of her maps pinned on it made up the sole contents of the room aside of her cot hidden behind a partitioning curtain. In the "public area" of the command tent she lit the two sturdy oil lanterns that hung from two long stands in two corners of the room then lit the third lantern that hung from the apex of the tent, then she put away the maps; the less that her possible enemies/possible allies knew about the layout strengths and weaknesses of her home ground the better. The maps on the worn table were replaced by a battered tin military tea service. She could serve tea since this Haven, despite its recent uprooting and resettlement due to flooding, had a working water purifier. Dried herbs were a little difficult to come by before harvest but now she had an ample supply of chamomile and mint leaves. As with everything else, there wasn't much and what they had was poor and cobbled together, but it was something.

Seated behind the rather rickety folding table with two empty cloth-and-wood folding chairs on the other side to receive her guests and waited. She wasn't kept waiting long. Soon in through the partially opened front flap of her command tent walked a man with messy dark brown hair, a bomber jacket that matched the description her men had given, and... She blinked; he was no older than she was! Seriously, he was really young! Was he some kind of intern? Was this some kind of joke? She looked twice at him... and that was all it took. Hardened warrior, definitely; he'd seen his share of combat. Probably another of those boy-soldiers she'd become familiar with, the case wasn't altogether unprecedented; why she'd met one of them herself far away and long ago.

Then, as if the mere brushing of her thoughts on a beloved yet painful memory had summoned him from the mists of her past, in through her doorway stepped a visage she had never thought she'd see again. Oh, the years had changed him, certainly, he was a lot taller than she thought he'd be, but that emotionless face and that ridiculous hair... there could be no mistake. Her eyes widened and she gave a small soft and barely audible gasp of recognition before she could stop herself. Her mind raced, trying to come up with a viable formula as to why he would be here, now, in this place and what the Preventors were planning or trying to say by it all. Two boys, her age; one of them a specter from her past. It just didn't make sense, were they trying to manipulate her somehow? Perhaps they intended to catch her emotionally off guard so that she made mistakes and gave herself away. Well she sure as hell wasn't about to let them, she had simply too much riding on this meeting to let her emotions get involved. Besides, that didn't really add up; how would they have known about him and his history with her and more importantly how would they have found him so fast? Unless Cathy... Nah, impossible. Cathy was Cathy for heavens sake!

"Gentlemen," she said her voice calm and steady even if she wasn't. She liked to think she was the consummate professional in all situations. "Please come in and have a seat, I have tea here if you would like."

The two men, moving with the soundless ease of stalking predators, walked in an unusual tandem over to the chairs and seated themselves. She gestured questioningly to the tea set and the both silently declined the offer. She smiled a small professional smile and poured herself a tin mug full of the steaming brew.

"If you don't mind I'd like to start off with introductions. I like to know the names of the individuals I'll be working with." Midii very carefully did not look at No-name when she said this. No emphasis on name. Professional, entirely professional. Lets play nice about this.

"Heero Yuy," the messy haired soldier said.

"Trowa Barton," No-name said. Neither offered their hands to shake, she didn't expect them to but she couldn't with hold a tiny frown from tugging down her bottom lip. She folded her hands on the table in front of her, studying the two of them skeptically for a moment and at last said

"You're Heero Yuy?" she inquired, gesturing to the shorter Preventor. "And you're Trowa Barton?"

They both nodded curtly. Midii graced them with a small look that said she wasn't fooled and said

"So when's Elvis showing up?"

They both looked at her neutrally. She frowned a little deeper and decided she'd cut to the chase... she hated the indirect route anyway.

"Look, gentlemen, I don't know what kind of games the Preventors are playing by sending the two of you here with two very obviously faked up names. I mean, Heero Yuy and Trowa Barton? It's an insult to my intelligence. I can only conclude by this that Preventors either does not take this seriously, does not take you seriously or does not take me seriously. All three possibilities are bad for negotiations."

"I assure you that no offense was meant," Heero stated. "The Preventors does take this opening talk between us seriously indeed."

Midii raised a very eloquent eyebrow.

"We are two of their finest Preventors," Heero said.

"Which one of you is Cathy's brother?" Midii asked.

Trowa made a small raising gesture with his hand, Midii managed to hide her surprise quite well this time. So he'd found a place to go home to, good for him. Perhaps it was irony on the part of the universe that he would find a home as she was displaced from hers. No matter, it was neither here nor there.

"Cathy says that you'll represent the word of the outside world Preventors in good faith with the full backing of the authority in charge during this meeting and any negotiations we may have in the future, is this so?" Midii questioned bluntly.

"Yes," No-name said quietly, that much about him hadn't changed over the years he was still quiet as ever. "The two of us have been granted such authority by Lady Une. Speaking with us is essentially speaking with her."

Midii tucked the fact that the head of the Preventors was a woman away for later thought. Was she possibly related? Not likely but anything was possible. It was more than likely just coincidence though, Une was a very popular last nae in htis part of the world. It was a bit like the last name Smith.

"That's what I wanted to hear. Lets get down to business," she said.

"Let's get your name first," the one who called himself "Trowa" interrupted. He knew damn well what her name was, but for the sake of formality she'd bite.

"Most people refer to me as Number One, but my name is Meridice, or rather Midii Une."

There. You don't know me, I don't know you and I refuse to let that eagle-eyed stare of yours get to me so nyah nyah! she thought at him, perhaps a little childishly.

"Miss Une," the Preventor named Heero Yuy (like the famous colonist) said. "We're here on the part of the Preventors to reach an accord with you and your people and I'll be honest, to hopefully negotiate the future destruction of all armaments within your sphere of influence. For now that requires a small show of trust on both of our parts."

Midii wasn't biting.

"While I appreciate your honesty, I'm not certain what you mean precisely," she replied. She was going to play her cards close to her chest until she had the true measure of the two of them and their organization.

"The Preventors has sent in two of its top agents, Barton and myself, to possibly hostile territory with no real promise of safe passage in or out of your lands," Heero stated.

It appeared that the two Preventors were going to play their hands close to their chests until they knew what she was about too. Midii didn't know a whole lot about politics but this whole tit and tat banter had a rather stilted and practiced feel to it. Still she'd keep the little dance going for a while and see where it led her.

"If that's all you're worried about, I can promise you safe passage in and out of the lands held by the Homeguard as well as my personal pledge that nothing will happen to you within our borders so long as I and my people are able to prevent it."

"I was hoping for more along the lines of valuable information," he stated bluntly.

Ah, a soldier she could at last communicate with! He was as blunt as she could have wished, for she had very much feared that they would send in a politician-type, someone very good with words and twisting them around until they sounded like they made promises but never actually gave anything away.

"All information is valuable to someone mister Yuy," Midii replied. Well, he had laid the glove on the table so to speak, perhaps she could afford to take him up on his offer for frank discussion.

"And while we're on the subject I too was hoping for information, as a matter of fact that's precisely the purpose I called this meeting for. I propose an exchange of information."

There. Open, honest, agreeable... but not giving too much away, at least not yet.

"Provided the inquiries are uncompromising, I agree," Heero replied.

His answer as tentatively friendly. They were both still testing the waters. Midii had no intention of lying, merely of not saying everything unless it was necessary, and she got the feeling Mister Yuy was of the same mind. Midii hoped she was reading him right; he seemed pleased with the way things were going. Midii was pleased too. The mysterious Preventors had come with an apparently very real desire to negotiate and hear her side of the story which was more than she had gotten from her Government. Perhaps here was the aid she had been praying for. Nanashi could be ignored since Heero Yuy was the one providing her with what she wanted.

"Very well then," she said taking a small sip of her tea; the calming effect of chamomile did precious little to calm her tightly strung nerves. No-name had always been perceptive, very very perceptive, and his stare felt like it was burning a hole in her forehead. It was unnerving, like he could see straight into her mind. She knew he was analyzing everything thing she said and every little movement she made... and with the history between the two of them she doubted it was in a very favorable light. She had half a mind to glare at him and tell him where to stick the assumptions he was likely making about her but she refused to break or even bend. She could hack this, no problem. A little honesty couldn't hurt, so she said

"Information on this side of our borders is hard to come by... solid information, that is. I called this meeting so that I could inquire about Preventors. You say you target terrorist groups, how do you define "terrorist?" Is it anyone attacking any of the current government officials, anyone attacking any other group, or just anyone holding weapons?"

"The building and maintaining of armaments not suited for personal defense, forage or personal recreation on a large scale is against the declaration of principles of the Earth Sphere Unified Nation and in violation of a great many laws," Heero stated. "Mobile suits are certainly on the list of contraband weapons for the E.S.U.N."

"These weapons are for personal defense," Midii replied. "The Havens and the people in them would be overrun and injured, possibly killed, without them. The Homeguard is a defensive force only, we have no interest in taking our little fleet, sorry as it is, anywhere beyond our nations borders. But you still didn't answer my question precisely."

"Any person or group of people with hostile intentions toward ending the era of peace the Earth Sphere Unified Nation has created," Heero replied. Midii nodded to herself.

"Homeguard has no hostile intentions. It wont have hostile intentions in the future. If it were up to me and the men and women who serve under me we'd have gotten rid of the suits and got on with the business of living by now."

"So it's not up to you?" Trowa questioned, with the very obvious implication that there was someone else, likely unsavory, pulling their strings.

Oh I so wish you would go away, she thought as she said

"It is technically, however with the way things are in this country we can't afford to disarm right now."

"And why is that precisely?" he pursued. He was out for blood, she just knew it. What were the Preventors thinking? Were they truly not interested in negotiating with her? Did they really just want to find a reason, any reason, to invade? Was that why they had sent him in? Still, if there was any chance at all of getting aid for her people, she could swallow her pride.

"We have Raiders attacking the Havens from all sides of our borders," she said honestly, meeting both of their eyes in turn. "If we disarmed they'd take over in a heartbeat. I don't suppose the Preventors might be able to offer some kind of aid would they?" Midii asked. She controlled her voice very carefully, her expression was carefully shuttered. This was the big money question; this was what she really needed to know.

"What has your Provisional Government done about the Raiders?" Heero asked instead.

Damn! He sidestepped the issue, she thought in frustration. Okay, play it cool.

"Nothing," she replied. At this she was unable to keep her voice from sounding curt even to her. But dammit, the whole stinkin' issue made her angry.

"Nothing?" Heero inquired. "And you're sure they are aware of the issue? The severity of the problem with the Raiders?"

"Yes," she said shortly. "I've sent many letters by personal courier to the capitol. They received them and they occasionally deigned to send back replies."

Midii pulled out a folder, a thick one, and plunked it down on the table in front of her then slid it forward for the two Preventors to take a look. Heero flipped open the folder and read the top page on the left side to himself with Trowa looking over his shoulder.

"Dear Miss Une, while we at the Belterre Provisional Government deeply sympathize with the plight of Belterre's citizens we regret to inform you that our current funds are too limited to supply any monetary or provisional aid. As for your request for additional man power either trained or untrained to help out in this disaster we also regret to inform you that we cannot now spare the employees. We appreciate that you may view these attacks as direct threats, we at the Provisional Government can assure you that these supposed enemy forces of yours are nothing more than minor inconveniences. We believe they will desist in their attacks if you do nothing. Please stop sending us letters."

"That was written in reply to a Raider attack made on one of the Havens in Sector two. The Raiders had managed to almost completely overwhelm the defenses of that Haven. The cell in that sector lost ten of its fighters and thirty five civilians were injured," she informed him quietly.

"How many requests for aid have you sent to them?" Heero inquired. As he continued to leaf through them. His expression didn't change, but Trowa sitting behind suddenly went still, Midii suppressed a small shudder, she remembered that stillness; it had always spelled out trouble.

"I don't know, I lost count, but I've received fifty three replies. Almost all of them are like that. "We deeply sympathize but we regret yada yada." I know they're a little tight there at the capitol but surely they could afford to do something." she said, trying hard to keep the desperation out of her voice. She felt she'd succeeded admirably. Not that it likely mattered; it didn't take a Gundam scientist to figure out that things in this county were desperate.

"If the Belterre Provisional government was not the one to provide you and your Homeguard with your mobile suits then who did?" Heero asked next.

Damn! He was changing the subject again! She imagined that this issue was one of particular concern to the Preventors, so she supposed she could give it to them; it wasn't exactly a state secret anyway.

"If you want to get technical, I suppose you could say the Alliance Military provided them for us," Midii said. "Before the war in 195 actually."

"You stole them didn't you?" Trowa surmised. It wasn't a very difficult conclusion to make, even though they had been painted over in a new color, the suits were all of the makes and models that the Alliance military had favored during the time they'd been in power.

Duh genius, she thought. What, you thought that the magic mobile suit fairy came down and gave them to us? 

"Yes I did," she replied, without a hint of shame. "But since the Alliance is no longer around I suppose it is a moot point."

"What use would you or Homeguard have had for mobile suits before the Raider attacks started?" Trowa asked.

This meeting was starting to have the feel of an interrogation, but Midii had plenty to back her up on this of all things.

"To get rid of the armies. That was what Homeguard's original purpose was for and that's what it remains. We're here to protect the civilians," Midii said staunchly.

There! No-name could stick that in his gun ports and shoot it! Thankfully at that point Heero called off his tall skinny pit-bull and spoke next.

"I know it seems a little invasive but perhaps you could tell us a bit about your Homeguard, how it got started and why. It would help clear things up and might help your case."

I didn't know I was on trial, she thought darkly. Perhaps the Preventors weren't her allies after all.

"My case?" she questioned. If she was to be attacked she wanted to know what it was about and why, in this case a little bluntness would force them to either admit that they were biased or force them to ease off a little.

"A poor choice of words," Heero said. "I did not mean to imply that you had to defend yourself against any accusations or slander on the part of myself or my organization or anyone outside of my organization. I merely wished to know a bit of history; how your Homeguard came to be and why it is still around. It seems to be well led and well organized, especially for a grassroots organization. The Preventors is officially the only organization allowed to bear heavy weaponry within the Earth Sphere so you can understand why your Homeguard might be a cause of concern."

That made sense, if she were the only game in town; she'd certainly want to know about how a new kid on the block suddenly came to be there. Would a little candor on her part bring forth a little candor on theirs?

"Alright, I suppose it couldn't hurt," she said after a moment's consideration. She paused again, sifting through the years of memories to arrange her words into an accurate and concise order of events. She didn't want to be there all night telling every boring detail about how they'd come to be there.

"Back in the days of the Alliance, Belterre had armies riding through this country every other week after the government collapsed, they generally rode in with their covered supply wagons and their large fleets of suits declaring martial law and rampaging about destroying property and killing people even if only by accident. It was like someone had declared Belterre open territory and nobody worried about what happened to this place, every other day or so saw a new battlefield and you couldn't go an hour without hearing a new broadcast, back when we still had broadcasts, about some house, building or town somewhere in this city getting destroyed in a mobile battle in that area or even worse, people getting killed in the crossfire. We all just got stuck in the middle of everything so me and some of the few other people in this country with any military training or experience got together and created Homeguard as a way to kick these rampaging property destroyers out of our country so we could save what was left of it.

That's also kind of how the Havens were formed up; with all of the cities burned down or destroyed or otherwise unlivable everyone had no choice but to become refugees fleeing from place to place, trying to find someplace safe to call home; only there was no place safe. There used to be great long strings of them stretching from horizon to horizon along the roads. They had no where to go so we said that if they decided to make some encampments, we'd take care of defending them from any of those armies. They did and we did and here we are. Homeguard's original leader bought it early on in this campaign of ours and things just kind of fell to me. I've been keeping things going ever since he died."

"But you and Homeguard are still here," Trowa pointed out.

"It was only supposed to be temporary," Midii replied. "Homeguard and the Havens were just supposed to be around until the end of the war and then we'd all throw down our weapons, pack up the camps and get back to the business of living normal again. But after the war ended the fighting for us didn't really stop, it just changed. I don't know why the Raiders are picking on us; lord knows we don't own anything worth stealing you'd think they'd go pick on someone with more money. But that's why we're still around, because we still have a responsibility to protect the civilians."

"What about your government? It's their responsibility," Heero said.

"Try telling them that," Midii grumbled under her breath. She hadn't called this meeting to gripe, she'd called it to get information, and it would appear she needed to force their hand a bit.

"Okay, I've answered your questions now you can answer mine," she said.

"Fair enough," Heero agreed.

"The Preventors only targets terrorists, or so you say; has there ever been an instance in which you or your fellow enforcers have had to declare martial law within a town or city in order to subdue a threat?"

"No," Heero said. Gee, he was a rather quiet fellow too. It looked like No-name had found a soul mate.

"If such an occasion arose would the Preventors declare martial law?" she pursued. She was interested in this too; she wanted to know just how far this Preventors group was willing to go to secure the peace. If they were going to turn all Captain Ahab on her and her people she wanted to be able to read that so that she could pull her people out before they turned into another Alliance Military; heavens knew those guys had been bad news, for her and her country!

"It's against the declaration of principles," Heero said.

Like I know what the hell that is, she thought crossly. It really sucked being stuck out of the loop.

"So they wouldn't," she said, wanting to be absolutely certain.

"Only with a mandate from the President of the Earth Sphere and only under extreme circumstances."

That doesn't tell me what that new Alliance of theirs would do if it was scared enough or felt threatened enough. Any coward politician or President can get frightened enough or greedy enough to issue an executive order and justify it to their people later. How much power does the Preventors have, and how can they use it? 

"Can the Preventors act autonomously to subdue a given populace?"

"Preventors is not allowed to interfere in local matters excepting where there is a breach of the Earth Sphere Unified Nations Declaration of Principles or its chartered rights for individuals."

"So then what are you doing here?" Midii inquired. "Most would say that this is a local matter. Our Provisional Government certainly seems to think so."

"The Preventors may not interfere in local matters, but it does like to maintain a presence in certain hot spots for trouble."

"Likes to keep its fingers in every pie you mean," Midii said dryly. The Alliance was the same, how were the Preventors different?

"How big is Preventors?" she asked.

"Large enough to encompass most important points within the Earth Sphere both up in space and here on Earth."

"Sounds like a lot of man power," she remarked mildly. They had a big force, to what end did they use it and how?

She switched topics, trying a different direction to get at the information she really wanted to know. Sheesh, getting solid information out of that Heero guy was like pulling teeth!

"How do the Preventors advise the local government on policy?"

Heero gave a small smile, or what could have passed for one, as if he'd finally figured something out and said

"I think you have the wrong idea about the Preventors Miss Une. The Preventors is not another Earth Alliance Military."

"Oh?" she inquired, raising an eloquent brow. Part of her wanted them to prove her assumptions wrong, the other part was skeptical... everybody wanted to be different from the bad guy.

"The Preventors is an agency that does precisely what it's name implies... Prevents. The sole purpose of the Preventors is to stop another war from breaking out by stopping the fighting while its still small."

Midii gave a small noncommittal "Hm" as an indicator that she was listening and wished to hear more. He had her full attention.

"Local governments have autonomy, the Preventors only interferes when there is a direct threat against the Earth Sphere Unified Nation. You could say we're very specialized in that way. If we maintain a base or a permanent presence, it has no effect one way or the other on the internal affairs of the country surrounding it. The only way the Preventors can become involved in a local matter is if it has a bearing on the Earth Sphere or its Advisory Board and Council."

Midii sat back in her chair to digest his words for a moment or two, looking for traps or loopholes in what he had said. The Alliance had been just the opposite. The way they had worked was to put all of their own people in positions of power and authority, supposedly so that everyone was on the same page and they were all communicating and understanding one another. What had ended up happening was the Alliance had gradually taken over completely either by superior politics or superior force of arms. Being the stronger and established power most average people didn't even notice the shift in power when the Alliance took over since their lives weren't affected much by it; why should they notice? The Alliance was the Good Guys! They were out to take care of everyone, they could do no wrong; so anyone fighting against their benevolence must not want peace for why would anyone choose to go against them when they were the sole force of peace in this world? That was what she'd been told when she was little, what she'd been brought up to believe, but it had all been a lie.

So what was the Preventors' game? What were they after? What was their angle? If they didn't take over like some kind of festering cancer what was up?

"Where does Preventor authority come from?" she asked at last.

"The Earth Sphere Unified Nation, its Advisory Board, the President, and the Prime Minister of Foreign Affairs," Heero said.

"That's a pretty long list," she observed. "How is it that they are able to act with any expediency if they have to consult a committee?"

"They are under the direct command of Lady Une, and she answers to them."

"Ah. I see," Midii said. It was crunch time... time to make a decision. These boys they'd sent from the agency might or might not be telling her the truth; she had no real way of verifying it. This new Earth Sphere Unified Nation seemed to respect the autonomy of a given country, staying out of their internal affairs for better or worse to the effect of the general population... the fact that they had not offered to intercede on Belterre's citizens behalf or force the Provisional Government to offer any form of aid spoke very well that they were serious about respecting a nations autonomy and right to govern itself. The Alliance certainly wouldn't have passed up a golden opportunity like this one to step in on the citizen's behalf and put their own people into positions of power. Perhaps she could afford to trust them... and perhaps not.

She studied the two before her intently, trying to peel away their masks and get behind their eyes to figure out what they were thinking. Were they telling the truth? Were they after something inside of Belterre? Did they have an ulterior motive? Could she afford to place her trust in them? Midii had spent too much time as a spy winning other peoples trust and betraying them to probably ever trust anyone again fully... Still at time like this Midii knew she could rely on her instincts. Nanashi had never once lied to her and despite everything that had happened between them she still trusted him a little on a gut-level. She was going to go with her instincts. Besides that, she had little choice left, it as either take a chance on them or be destroyed by the wolves.

"You've answered pretty much everything on my list and I thank you for taking the time to come out and meet with me," she said abruptly and decisively. "I look forward to future meetings with such accord."

"As do we Miss Une," Heero said politely.

Midii didn't offer to let him call her Midii, they hadn't reached that stage yet and she had the feeling that if she was too friendly too fast against her nature Nanashi would suspect something was up and advise them to take future meetings slow. She'd get fewer concessions that way. Still there was a final matter that she had wanted to verify from an outside force, another thing her gut was telling her.

"Oh, there was one more thing."

"What's that?" Heero asked.

"It isn't really anything major, just a minor problem I'm worried about and I was hoping that you with your connections in the outside world might be able to shed some light on the subject," she paused wetting her lips. "Have you ever heard of a group called Sacred Omega?"

Trowa and Heero exchanged a very long, very speaking glance. Midii smelled trouble.

"What?" she asked. "What's that about?"

"Where did you hear about them?" Nanashi asked mildly... too mildly.

"A couple of people calling themselves by that name set up shop in sector twelve shortly after the war ended," she said watching them carefully, but old poker-face had his mask as securely in place as ever and the other one wasn't giving anything away either. It was like dealing with two federal agents.

"Are they a problem?" asked Heero carefully.

"No, but that's just it," she said. "They say they're farmers, but they have nothing to farm and no greenhouses. They built this huge fortress that could hold a couple hundred perhaps even a thousand or so but there are maybe twenty people in it all total."

"Is that all?" Heero asked, but there was nothing belittling about his tone. He sounded like he had suddenly received very bad news and was fishing for more info. Well she'd give it to him as a gesture of good faith between them. She shot Heero a look that told him she knew precisely what he was up to and was letting him get away with it... this time.

"They have empty storehouses with empty racks, but there are no weapons," she continued. "My people have made search after search of the premises and turned up nothing but empty labyrinths of underground bunkers and tunnels that go no where. They're too quiet; no one goes in no one comes out. My people have been watching them for months but they've kept their noses so clean you could eat out of them... not that I would want to try because that would be just nasty. Maybe I'm just paranoid but I don't think so. They're up to something, I can feel it. After all, the logical point of building a bookshelf is to hold books; I don't trust the fact that they've built all of this empty space and they're not doing anything wit it. Any information you might have would be useful."

Might as well end it on a friendly note.

There was another long speaking look, the two of them were communicating silently. They knew something, they knew about Sacred Omega and they weren't sure if they should tell her or not. At last, Trowa gave a small gesture as if to say "hey man, it's up to you." Heero turned to her with a serious demeanor and said

"We'll have to consult with our superior, tell your people to keep a close watch on them in the mean time. We'll meet with you tomorrow. Will noon suffice?"

"I have camp-duty then. Dishwashing," she said apologetically.

Trowa looked mildly surprised, of course, he always looked mildly anything. It wasn't so much a look of surprise as a slight change in posture and a sharper observance of her. The jerk.

"You help them wash their dishes?" he asked. "I thought you led the Homeguard."

"No idle hands in a Haven," she replied with a shrug. "I do my part the same as everyone else. Oh that reminds me, Trowa; your sister said that you and she are on laundry duty at ten a.m."

He nodded passively, accepting it.

"I can meet you at two; I get off rescue runs by then. I'll see you here but it's pretty likely that my second in command will be here with me. Actually, I'd prefer it that way if you don't mind."

Heero paused, obviously a little reluctant and then nodded.

"See you then," he said. Midii nodded and they showed themselves out.

"Well," she commented aloud to an empty tent. "That went productively." She then went to find her second in command to tell him the good news.

"So," said Heero once they were safely out of earshot. "Was she?"

"She was telling the truth. Every word," Trowa verified.

"You're sure?" Heero said.

"I know when she's lying," Trowa said with absolute certainty.

"You sound almost disappointed," his friend observed.

"About what?" Trowa questioned evasively, even though they both already knew.

"That she was telling the truth," Heero said. "You were hoping she'd be lying or practicing something underhanded."

"Why would I want that? Homeguard could prove to be a valuable resource and ally to the Preventors," Trowa said neutrally, what he didn't say neutrally was that he thought they could do without its leader.

"Trowa," Heero said. He had only said the one word in his usual tone but they both felt the question. Was he prepared to do this fairly and without prejudice?

"I won't pretend that seeing her again didn't cause me to react," Trowa said. "I won't say that I didn't bring our past with me into that meeting but I think that in this case it will work out fine."

"How so?" Heero asked. The two of them rarely spoke about their pasts, perhaps it was better that way considering the violence in them, but Heero sounded curious.

"We were friends," Trowa said with a little difficulty. "I get the feeling that at least part of the reason she decided to trust us personally and our organization in general was because deep down she still trusts me."

"Is this okay with you?" Heero asked. Trowa was glad he was asking for the sake of the mission and not out of interest in Trowa's personal life.

"Yeah," Trowa said, and then his mouth kept moving of its own accord. "Part of me wanted to remember her as this evil specter... I had all but managed to block out the person behind the deed she'd committed. In that meeting I met that person again and she really hasn't changed much. She's still backed into a corner and coming out fighting."

"Hn. What really worries me is that mention she made of Sacred Omega."

"It's certainly a matter to worry about. We knew they had a base of operations somewhere. This place is, as Catherine says, 'the back of nowhere.' A good place to hide but perhaps they underestimated the nosiness of their neighbors."

Heero smiled a little.

"She has good instincts" he said. "But why do you suppose Midii Une decided to give us all of the information she had on them? She certainly didn't have to; it seems to me that she was eager to be cooperative. Too eager do you think?"

"I have a possible motive for that eagerness. Maybe she wants us Preventors to get rid of them for her?"

"A reasonable assumption. With deadly raiders knocking on my door every other day and a government that doesn't care one way or the other about it all I'd be eager for help to get rid of potential trouble as well."

"Something had occurred to me regarding those raiders," Trowa said. "Midii says they attack these refugee camps from all sides of the borders, what I don't see is why. These Havens of Belterre aren't a source of wealth. They're subsisting. They don't produce luxury goods or services, they don't have valuable trade, in fact the only thing they have going for them is food clothing and shelter. Hardly the kind of items that would attract the eyes of an average Raider."

"What you're saying is that a Raider wouldn't be interested in subsistence goods because Raiders steal luxury goods to supply themselves with their basic needs at a profit. Stealing subsistence goods such as you would find in a Haven goes against their modus operendi."

"Exactly," Trowa stated. "If they're not making a profit then Raiders always move else where, usually to places where high priced luxury items are easier to come by."

"The fact that they are attacking her is suspicious now that you mention it. It makes no sense," Heero said.

"The Raiders and Sacred Omega have little to do with each other, and of the two of them Sacred Omega is the one we should be worrying about," Trowa said, focusing down to the real business at hand.

"True," Heero agreed. "I'll contact Lady Une tonight and give her the briefing of this meeting. She's been trying to track their whereabouts and their activities for sometime now, always with difficulty because with every attack we suspect is Sacred Omega there's never any real leads tying the deed to them. We can't find their trade routes for illegal arms smuggling and we can never find any of their bases. Perhaps now we know why."

"You think Homeguard is in on it?" Trowa questioned.

"I won't rule it out as a possibility but I think that it's a very remote one if it's even in the running. No, my theory is that Sacred Omega is using the isolation of this country and its relatively open sea ports and roadways to their advantage. Whether Homeguard knows it or not I'd be willing to wager that Sacred Omega has made this place into an underworld trading Mecca. It wouldn't be very difficult at all with the conditions inside of Belterre. We've seen for ourselves that what passes for the national defense system and disaster relief is just barely meeting the demands of the population. While Homeguard is busy defending against the Raiders, Sacred Omega is probably smuggling weapons past them and into their base."

"But Midii said that her people never found anything when they searched them, and she wasn't lying," Trowa pointed out.

"Maybe they just weren't looking hard enough, or in the right places," Heero said with a tone that implied he had doubts about the Homeguard's ability to run a serious search for hidden weapons. After all, Preventors were trained especially for that and the two of them were better than most. "Lady Une will likely want to conduct her own search and investigation."

"I think we're going to be here for a while," Trowa noted.

"No doubt."

It had been a blessedly uneventful night and the Homeguard not manning the towers had gotten a well-deserved full night's sleep. Midii reflected on her previous evening conversation as she quickly and expertly slung out breakfast for that particular shift of early risers. Here she was back in the kitchen. It was almost a nostalgic feeling, but she'd always felt most at home when she was cooking. Despite some of the obviously less than pleasant memories that came along with it, it held its share of pleasant ones too; she had cooked for her father and brothers after their mother had died and it had given her a feeling of comfort to spend time in the place she'd spent so much time bonding with her mother in. She finished chopping up the peeled potatoes and threw them into the skillet with some of the butter that had been traded for at another Haven. Adding pepper Midii checked the heat of the pan so that the potatoes wouldn't brown too quickly and burn the outside without cooking the middle. She turned to check on the help she was assigned to watch over.

"Don't stare off into space girl, keep stirring the porridge or else you'll get lumps in it," Midii reprimanded her young helper for the morning. The child seemed a little daft, but she was sweet. She turned back to her pot stirring conscientiously.

"That's the way," Midii encouraged. "Stir the porridge."

Midii grabbed the skillet by the handle and expertly flipped up the potatoes to keep one side from browning too much, then turned to where the trencher breads with ham and cheese were toasting. The cheese was melted and the bread was browned so she quickly flipped all ten of them off the cooking surface onto a platter calling out to the ones assigned to bear food that morning that the order was up, and then began placing buttered trencher breads onto the cooking surface for the next batch. It was a comfortingly familiar routine, breakfast. The fare was pretty slim, even after harvest, but at least there was food to eat.

"Goooood morning," her second in command Michael Bryson said cheerfully.

"If you're not here to help I suggest you stay out of my way," Midii informed him, flipping two pancakes to cook on the other side.

"Actually, I came to get fresh bacon," he said. "You know that by the time it reaches me its almost always cold. I hate cold bacon."

"Out scamp!" Midii said wielding her flat wooden cooking spoon threateningly. "I have a spatula and I know how to use it."

"Awwww, but Midii," he protested, looking at her with imploring eyes like a cute puppy. He knew damned well she wasn't going to fall for that trick. Wasn't going to fall for it. Wasn't going to fall for it...

"Oh fine!" she grumped, flipping him a couple of strips onto a napkin. "Take it and leave." He leaned against the wooden prep table and munched contentedly.

"You're still here," she noted after half a minute of furious upkeep with all of the various dishes she had cooking.

"There're strangers in our camp," he said quietly.

"Yes, we brought in an entire circus last night or don't you remember?" Midii asked, as she carefully finished the browning of the potatoes. "I never want to wake up to the sight of an enormous elephant ass outside of my tent again."

"I don't mean just them," Bryson said. "Although I admit that it was nice to see the lovely Catherine again."

Midii shot him a warning look that spoke louder than words that he'd better keep his paws off her best girlfriend if he knew what was good for him.

"I know we have special visitors. I invited them," she said quietly. "I just wanted a friendly chat."

"And you didn't tell me?" Bryson said, looking injured. "I'm your second in command; you're supposed to tell me these things! How can you just go ahead and have a secret meeting and not tell me!"

"Keep your voice down," Midii said calmly. "I had every intention of telling you. I just couldn't find you afterwards. You weren't in your tent-platform or out on the watchtowers and when I asked around no one had seen you."

"Well eh... I could tell you where I was but you wouldn't be very surprised if you know what I mean," Bryson said with a devilish grin and a wink.

"Typical," she grumbled. Her partner's amorous pursuits were nearly legendary. "Why can't you think with your head for a change?"

"I do think with my head, just not the one you would prefer," he said roguishly.

"You have no shame do you?" she asked rhetorically.

"None whatsoever," he agreed with no sign of remorse.

"Well, at least you're honest about it. That's something I suppose."

"So... what happened during the meeting?" he asked. Bryson might have been a scoundrel, but he knew when to get down to business.

"I had a friendly talk with them-"

"Them?" he interrupted. "So there was more than one?"

"Yes, there were two-"

"Idiot!" he scolded her. "You know they could have overpowered you and carried you off."

"To where precisely?" Midii asked. "We're in the middle of a Haven surrounded by my most loyal Homeguard members, this place is an enclosed space with only one gate in or out and even on the outside we're surrounded by miles of wilderness. This is our turf in every sense of the word."

"That's true," he admitted grudgingly. "Still..."

Midii ignored him and gave him the basic rundown of the meeting ending with

"...and so I've decided to trust them, for now, and there's another meeting set up for this afternoon. I told them you'd be there."

"Seems pretty convenient," Bryson mused aloud.

"The fact that one of the Preventors is Cathy's brother and the other one just happened to be in the area and they just happened to be in the right place at the right time to get a look at our main forces? Yeah, it does."

"You believe they really just want to talk?" he asked, looking at her out of the side of his eye.

"I believe they want to know if we're going to be a threat to them. I believe they want to know how strong in numbers the Homeguard is and how many weapons we have. And I believe they're hiding something about that group Sacred Omega from us. But for all of that, yes, I think they have good intentions. Besides, with the way things are going lately if these attacks keep up as relentlessly as they are we're going to need all of the help we can get. We should make allies while we can."

"I suppose that's true but I don't like it," he said. "Hey... you think they're after Spooky?"

"That old story again?" Midii looked askance at him.

"It's not a story," he insisted. "Its a proven fact that many of the bases manned by the Alliance disappeared into fire and ruin overnight with no real explanation during the year 193 and afterwards. Homeguard sure didn't launch those attacks, because at the weapons strength and manpower we had back in those days there was no way we could have taken on any of those bases and won. It was some force outside of Homeguard, it had to have been."

"So it was some force outside of Homeguard," Midii said with an indifferent shrug. "So what? Lots of people had grudges against the Alliance military in those days. It could have easily been some rebel mercenary group or crazed faction."

"But the rumors were specifically about a mobile suit," Bryson insisted. "Mobile suit singular."

They had been through this argument again and again and it had worn thin with time. Bryson was obsessed with the mysterious mobile suit that the Homeguard and citizens of Belterre had nicknamed "Spooky" for its mysterious ability to appear and vanish with no warning, seemingly out of thin air. During the year 193 it had appeared to utterly annihilate Alliance military bases all throughout the countryside of Belterre and had obliterated any and all enemy forces threatening the citizens of the country. The local people had treated it as part savior for freeing them all from the tyranny of the Alliance until the fledgling Homeguard could gain enough suits and man power to patrol the borders and part urban legend because sightings of the mobile suit had never been confirmed. According to the few eyewitness accounts, it had simply blinked into being from out of nowhere then disappeared leaving behind only the ruin of destruction in its wake to prove it even existed at all. Many scoffed at the tales of the mysterious Spooky; stating that if such a powerful suit did exist then why hadn't anyone used it in any of the recent skirmishes against the raiders to wipe them out?

"Oh come off it," Midii said scornfully as she cleared away the cooking supplies and started washing the utensils. "No one we've talked to has ever actually seen this supposed Spooky up close and the ones that saw it from a distance weren't exactly sure what it was. And as for the other guys..."

"Dead men don't tell tales," Bryson said agreeably. "It must be one powerful suit."

"It doesn't exist," Midii said flatly.

"Then what do you think killed all of those men? What do you think destroyed all of those bases?" he demanded. "I've seen what was left after an attack by Spooky and there weren't even two stones left standing on top of one another."

"Act of God?" Midii suggested facetiously.

"I'm serious here!" Bryson said. "Man, what I wouldn't give to have that kind of power in my corner."

"Oh please," Midii said scornfully. "You wouldn't know what to do with yourself."

"Of course I would," Bryson said with a mercenary grin. "I'd sell my services to the highest bidder and make a lot of money so that I could retire in the Bahamas."

Midii gave him a long narrow look. Bryson raised his arms.

"Jeez! I was just kidding!"

He adopted a saintly expression. "I'd make it into a giant soup kettle and use all that power to feed the people."

Midii loosened enough to chuckle.

"You liar," she said. "Come help me with these dishes so that we can get out of here and gather up those circus rigs we left behind yesterday. After that we've got a meeting to attend."

"If we're going to be discussing those Sacred Omega loonies do you want me to invite along our most recent spy in that area? He'll have the most up to date information," Bryson said, reluctantly walking over to where Midii had her arms up to her elbows in soap.

"Yes, after you help me with the dishes."

"I'll rinse and stack," he said in resignation.

Trowa backed off from the outside of the kitchens tent where he'd been eavesdropping on Midii's conversation with her second in command. The young man called Bryson was far less inclined to trust the Preventors than Midii was. One thing Midii hadn't mentioned in her conversation to her second was that she knew Trowa from long ago; if she kept that a secret from someone she obviously shared a good working relationship (if not any other kind of relationship) with, what else was she keeping from them? Then again, perhaps she considered that a private matter with no bearing on the situation.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Was it that it didn't matter to her? She'd been utterly professional with the both of them the night before no matter how he'd needled at her. Maybe she didn't care.

Or maybe she was so desperate that she was willing to take a little needling if it got her people the help they needed. Well that fell more in line with her character, what he knew of it that was. The years could change people but he really didn't think that Midii had changed all that much, on the inside that is. She still did what she had to for the sake of the ones she cared about no matter what the price the rest of the world was to pay. She was so narrow sighted! She always had been. When Trowa had been fighting to free all of Earth from the Alliance, Midii had destroyed all of that just because her own little family was in trouble. She never saw the big picture, only the pixels around her. It didn't look any different now; she wasn't terribly interested in anything going on outside of her own small country, save where it affected the people she protected. She wasn't meeting with the Preventors because she was interested in their cause; she was meeting with them because she needed something she couldn't get anywhere else.

I have to grant her one thing, Trowa admitted grudgingly. She really cares about these people. 

Midii could have chosen to sell off the suit she'd stolen for scrap metal and then used the money from it to settle elsewhere, but she'd stayed. She'd stayed to fight what must have seemed to her to be an endless series of skirmishes against an enemy she likely had little true hope of defeating. She'd stayed so that the people of her nation, the people she'd claimed as her own, would not be left defenseless to suffer the depredations of the wolves howling at the gates. She was as desperate as ever, but she was also as brave as she had ever been. He had to grudgingly admire her willingness to take on a losing battle because it was a battle worth the fighting. Perhaps they truly were the same after all.

How peacetime had mellowed him.

Catherine spotted him walking away from the kitchen tent and beckoned him over to her.

"There you are!" she said. "I was just about to search the Haven for you. We have laundry to help out with. Here, help me lift these."

She gestured to a large pile of sorted whites at her feet and he assisted her in bearing the heavy arm-load of laundry over to stir into the enormous tank of heated steaming water with others of its kind. Several other folks who worked at the circus and many that didn't were already there stirring the clothes in the pot to get them clean.

"So how did your meeting with Midii go?" Catherine questioned as he took his place beside her and began scrubbing with the others. She would ask about that; elder sisters it seemed felt that it was their prerogative to stick their noses into younger sibling's affairs... er, business. This was not an affair.

"Fine," he replied. He hoped she'd drop it, but knew she likely wouldn't.

"Fine? Fine-good? Fine-bad?" she pursued. And he was right.

"Both parties were satisfied in getting what they had wanted to get out of the meeting. Future negotiations between the Preventors and the Homeguard look promising," he answered curtly.

"You sound like a news reporter," she said splashing a little water at him playfully. "Tell me what you thought."

"About what?" he inquired, with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"About Midii of course!" she said with exasperation. "Did you find her nice? Did you think she was pretty? What did you think?"

Great. He thought Cathy had had an eye out to negotiations between the respective powers of two armed forces and all of the possible political ramifications thereof... but she was really interested in setting up some kind of an insane blind date for her bachelor younger brother. Perhaps his sister and Midii were the ones who were really the same; both protective older sisters who didn't really care much for the big picture as long as their own precious family wasn't hurt.

"She was okay," he said neutrally.

"Is that okay in a good way or just okay?" Cathy pursued.

"I really don't feel much like talking about it," he said shortly. And that was the wrong thing to say and the wrong way to say it. Cathy grew instantly concerned.

"She didn't offend you did she? I'm sure she didn't mean it whatever it was; Midii's a good person." Cathy hurriedly said in reassurance.

"I know," Trowa said softly, almost to himself. Then louder he said

"No, she didn't offend me. She was polite to both Yuy and myself. The meeting was productive."

"You don't like her do you," Cathy said. She sounded disappointed, like someone had cancelled Christmas. Oh bother.

"I said she was okay," Trowa said neutrally, trying desperately to repair disappointed-sister-damage.

"We mostly talked business," he said in a sudden brain flash. "It's hard to get much of an impression from someone if you never discuss anything about yourselves."

"Oh," Cathy said sounding a little relieved, her good cheer restored. "Well that's understandable then. You should try to get to know her a little better. I'm sure you two have a lot in common."

If only you knew, he thought at her as he bent back over his scrubbing.

Cathy looked at her younger brother in amusement and exasperation. As usual he was utterly oblivious to all of the admiring glances he'd been garnering. He wasn't wearing a shirt this morning, as he usually didn't when he ran through his morning routines or worked alongside the other members of their troupe on the heavy lifting and whatnot. The girls at the circus had long since given up trying to get his attention since most of them figured they'd probably have to strip naked and climb into his bed to get thier message across, but Trowa was still considered very eligable if any one was brave enough to try it. Half the female population of this haven had been practically flinging themselves at him over breakfast and he hadn't even noticed. Midii was so lonely, despite having her brother-like second in command Michael Bryson around her all the time. Cathy hoped that the two lonely souls she sensed in both Midii and her brother would finally find a real connection in one another. Midii had never had a relationship before. "I'm too busy," she always told Cathy whenever she asked. But Cathy thought that kind of life was no way to live. What was the point of living if you didn't throw your heart into it?

Heero conscientiously checked on his charge Relena directly after breakfast, bringing her a flat woven basket with a variety of food in it. He'd felt guilty and a little nervous about having to abandon her the previous evening even if only for a few hours. He highly disliked having her out from under his watchful guard for even a few minutes at a time much less hours. Relena joked that if she ever took longer than five minutes in the bathroom that Heero would call in the swat team; he scoffed... as if he'd wait for them to arrive! He really didn't want anyone else to know that they were currently hosting the Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs and possibly one of the most influential politicians on the face of the earth and the colonies both. It would definitely attract too much attention, the wrong kind of attention. And with a very real, very possible threat such as Sacred Omega looming nearby he wanted to attract as little attention as possible.

"Relena, I'm going to ask you to further your disguise," he said, presenting her with the platter of food. He had learned that she was often more amenable when she was being fed. The stubborn politician narrowed her eyes at him around her bowl of porridge. She wasn't taking being stuffed away in a tent for hours on end with nothing to occupy her very well; Heero thought that her patience might be wearing thin.

"I've come across some rather disturbing information recently and I think further disguise and deception is necessary until you can be moved to a more secure location," he informed her, making his tone firm and presenting no evidence of nervousness about her reaction. Firm and steady was the way to do it.

Relena caught the slight edge of concern in his voice and once she'd swallowed her food and dabbed her mouth with her napkin said

"What's wrong Heero? This place looks very secure, I mean fortified and everything."

"I don't know any of the inhabitants," he said. "I can't be certain that they'll make the defense of your life a priority. I want to get you out of her without attracting attention. I need to get in contact with Une again."

"Here, you can use my cell phone," she said as she continued making her way through her breakfast. "I think yours is low on juice from last night."

Heero nodded his thanks and opened up a satellite feed. Relena was someone so important that Une had deemed it necessary to give her a cell phone that could get in touch with Preventors security from anywhere, Earth or Space; it didn't matter if she was in the middle of the city or the middle of the Himalayas, the signal would reach somewhere to be picked up.

"Une," Lady Une's voice said shortly from the other line. Neither of the two of them was much for wasting words, especially not over an open channel that anyone could gain access to.

"Yuy here," Heero said without preamble. "A bit of a complication."

"They're hostile?" Une asked.

"No. Agreeable; amenable in fact. They wish open negotiations and reach an accord. They have unfriendly neighbors however, and not enough manpower to deal with them on top of all of the other situations they're dealing with."

"How unfriendly?" Une asked.

"Very." Heero replied shortly. "Possibly explosively unfriendly. I need a way to extract the dove without arousing suspicions in this area."

"Will a helicopter do?" Une asked, ready to make the order.

"Too conspicuous. The locals don't have access to helicopters so seeing one in the area would give them pause. Unless..."

"Unless?" Une urged.

"Are you interested in meeting the leader of Homeguard face to face?" Heero inquired. Une knew very well that the meeting would carry the double purpose of bring the leaders of the two forces to an open meeting so they could truly get the measure of each other, and getting Relena out of that neck of the woods covertly without arousing suspicions.

"I catch your meaning," she said wisely. "Arrange the meeting. I'll have Water and Dragon with me as escorts. Dragon will remain behind in dove's place."

"Understood. I'll contact you again with the time and the place."

"By the by, who are the unfriendly neighbors?"

"You're not going to like it... Sacred Omega."

"Well, now I definitely want that meeting," she said. "Out."

Midii climbed out of the cockpit of her beat-up old suit, waterlogged and freezing once again. They had managed to round up and haul all of the trailers and the few remaining supply rigs of the circus that they had left behind the day before, and the visitors to the Haven, however unwilling they might have been would be free to go once their engines had been serviced. All in a day's work, and her day was just beginning. She still had to question that scout from sector twelve "the Sacred Omega sector" and get his latest account before she walked into that meeting; she didn't want any unpleasant surprises in front of the company. Besides that, Belterre was her country, top to bottom stem to stern as the saying went, and she prided herself on knowing everything that went on inside its borders. That was why that hole in her intelligence bothered her so much; for a person formerly in covert intelligence to not be in the know was maddening. The agents she had sent recently to maintain a covert watch on the place should be rendezvousing with her presently and she hoped they had good news.

She had just left the suit with the mechanics for upkeep servicing and had just started wringing out her long hair when she heard a distant buzzing sound coming toward the gate at a rapid pace. She heard the arriver before she saw him as he was frantically crying out "Number one! Number One! I need to speak with her, it's urgent!" Since he wore the midnight blue coverall of the Homeguard he was let in with only a cursory questioning. Why did she not have the rosy-warm feeling that this was good news? After all, good news could always wait; but bad news was urgent.

She sighed; time to go be the leader of Homeguard again. Being leader stank; everybody came to you with their problems like you were the only one who could fix them. It was like a bone-deep instinct, like serfs turning to their feudal lord in times of trouble because they knew that he alone could defend them. Gee, put with that analogy she'd be a queen! Or a keep-lady at the very least. A traveling keep-lady, with a very large suited retinue of knights.

While she was still trying to sort out the medieval equivalent to her position, the Homeguard member hurried up to her and gave a sketchy half-salute and half bow. Midii had done her level best to discourage saluting and formality within the Homeguard feeling that it was too reminiscent of the path the Alliance Military had taken, but the rest of Homeguard aside of Bryson and the mobile troops she traveled with still insisted on finding a way to acknowledge some form of her superiority to them. Oh well, she was too tired to correct the lad right then.

"Not out here," she said before he could bellow out his bad news in front of the Haven and everybody. "My tent is this way."

Back to the ever familiar command tent, for yet another meeting. Great. Bryson told the Homeguard sticking around the entrance to form a perimeter and make sure that they remained both undisturbed and unheard.

Once they were inside Midii sat the young man, possibly about fifteen or so (when had her recruits been allowed to be so young?) down across the table from her and sent for a pot of tea. The world could be crumbling down and she'd be brewing a pot of tea.

"So, mister..." she trailed off, indicating that he should insert name here.

"Kalland, Ma'am," he said. "Tommy Kalland."

"First off, dispense with the ma'am. I'm not that old nor am I married. Secondly, what's got you running in here with your ass on fire?" she inquired.

The next words he said caused her little world to freeze in dread.

"It's Sacred Omega. They're on the move."

There was a moment's pause in which all was stock still as Midii's unwilling mind tried to process both the statement and all of its implications. The last report had said that all observable activity had quieted to a veritable hum-drum. They weren't doing anything worth noting down, nothing remotely suspicious. So how was it they were suddenly "on the move?" On the move where? And to what end? She took a deep breath.

"Report," she said.

"Me and my scout squad were on our late-night stake around the place, hidden in the terrain so they wouldn't know we were there. We figure its going to be another quiet night when suddenly around midnight these planes flying silently with no lights on drop down from higher atmosphere and dump down a whole shit-load of stuff. It was dark out and the operation was run so quietly that if you weren't looking for something you likely wouldn't have noticed anything at all; these guys were hard-core good. Instead of having a drop-site lit up they used invisible glow paint, the kind that can be bright as lights when someone uses the correct shielding on their screens."

"What did they drop?" Midii asked.

"You name it, they had it. Ration-supplies, guns of all types including illegal, missile cannons, grenade launchers, they even had the components to set up a mobile doll or suit production line and a lot of the spare part to go with it. And that was only the beginning. Once all of the supplies were dropped and hauled into the compound there came another set of planes that dropped a whole bunch of men out of them, swung back and dropped a whole lot more."

"Did you get a count?" Bryson asked.

"The closest tally we could make a consensus on was that there was around eight or nine hundred."

Midii didn't bother swearing; she just got very quiet.

"That's a lot of men," she softly.

"That's a bloody awful lot of men," Bryson said just as quietly.

"And they've been busy little bees," said Tommy. "More like hornets. They've set up. Their production line is already assembled in that big empty hall they told us was their main gathering place and it's churning out fully operational mobile suits at a rate of one an hour and that's not even counting all of the partially made ones they're setting up in the hangers. We suspect those partially assembled ones are actually mobile dolls by the way. At the rate they're going we predict that they'll be able to outfit a third of their available men within the week, and the rest of their current manpower within the month. These people are working non-stop round the clock. Their watchtowers are armed with missile launchers and they have plenty of ammo. No force could possibly come within a half mile of the place and hope to make it out of there unscathed."

"Shit," Midii swore softly.

Midii ran the numbers in her head and felt the icy hand of fate on her shoulder instead of Bryson's warm comforting one. All totaled and at full strength, Homeguard comprised a total of roughly seven hundred and fifty fighters give or take. Half of that number were ground fighters only; demolitionists, skirmishers, trappers, launching-teams and so forth. She had four hundred fifty members who were pilot-trained; fifty in airplane and helo, and the rest were mobile suit pilots. She had only two hundred and fifty remaining suits. Two hundred and fifty suits to face down almost a thousand suits plus perimeter defenses plus whatever the hell else they were hiding?

She and Bryson shared a look and she knew he'd run up against the same conclusion she had. There was just no way they could hope to win if they engaged their forces head on. Their suits were... well one shot away from the scrap heap to be blunt. They had good pilots but no real way of breaking Sacred Omega's aerial supply chains. Back when Homeguard had been ahem "requisitioning" supplies from the Alliance they had been concentrating entirely on mobile ground forces and ground to air defensive systems to mount around the Havens. They had had no interest in taking helos or planes despite the greater ease and versatility for transport because they'd had no facilities for them and all available fuel was being used in the mobile suits. Homeguard was a bunch of groundpounders, sustained aerial combat was something beyond their capabilities unless perhaps there was an aerial attack near the Havens, in which case they could use that Haven's ground to air defensive systems in offensive maneuvers.

Great, she was already running battle scenarios through her head. One could take the girl from the battlefield...

"Homeguard's first and only mission is to protect the civilians," Midii murmured looking down at the map she had re-secured to her tabletop. She had outlined sector twelve in red as a possible trouble zone, there were also red spots along the borders near the havens and certain trade roads. In green she had marked out every haven in every sector of Belterre with a small note tacked beside it showing the numbers and resources of the cell of Homeguard assigned to protect that particular Haven in case of attack.

"So you're saying that unless they come to us, Sacred Omega is not our problem," Bryson said. He sounded a little relieved. Midii didn't blame him; sending her loyal men and women into a suicide battle was not something either of them wanted to do.

"I'm saying that we've got to act fast to protect the civilians," Midii said firmly. "Those guys aren't going to leave us alone."

"They will if we don't pose any threat to them," Bryson said. "Here's what we should do; send in a messenger bearing a truce flag and tell him we want to enter negotiations with them. We could offer them safe passage through our lands and a treaty of non-aggression towards them. We wouldn't have to take their side, just promise not to take the side of their enemies."

"We're not going to negotiate with them," Midii said flatly.

"Why the hell not!" Bryson demanded. He caught her stubborn scowl and his face went serious.

"Midii look at me. We're not fighting them. There's no way we're fighting them. We only won out against the Alliance because we waged a war of attrition, made our homeland too much trouble to be worth the effort of keeping it. I don't think these guys have any compunction against hunting down every last man woman and child in this country and wiping us out. You've heard their dogma, they're insane. They're insane and that's why they'll win."

"I'm not going to fight them, not head on. But Bryson, look at the Havens. Homeguard's first and only duty is t-"

"To protect the bloody civilians. Yes. I know. You've only made it into your bloody mantra," he said.

She ignored him.

"Look at how we're all positioned," she said pointing to all of the little green dots spread out on the map.

When the Havens had originally been founded the Coordinators had purposely kept them all small; it was easier to remain organized, well defended, sanitary and relatively safe if one didn't have to worry about an unwieldy number of people. When the Havens had started gathering it had been agreed that there would be a maximum capacity set for refugees that a particular Haven would take on and once that number had been reached the remainder would go elsewhere within that sector an start up a new Haven. This had led to lots of tiny little dots on her maps.

"Yeah, so?" Bryson inquired. "I know what the Havens look like; I helped you design those maps."

"Back when we were forming the Havens, this situation had been ideal. The only way we could hope to provide enough food, sanitary water facilities and shelter for the refugees had been to take them in small doses to avoid over-crowding."

"Yeah, so?" Bryson said, gesturing that she get to the point.

"It's no longer ideal. In fact, it's very far from ideal. Everyone is spread out. Sacred Omega, when it becomes an offensive force, will be able to easily spread out and pick our civilians defenses off one by one. It wouldn't be long before we began falling like dominoes."

He paused. "So then, what do you suggest we do?"

"Consolidate," she stated firmly. "Find a place to take a stand. We can't afford to be spread out as we are anymore; the rules of the battlefield have changed and we must change with them. We'll just have to gather all of our people from every last haven and put them in a place where Homeguard can defend them all at once."

"It's easy for you to say Midii, but how precisely do you suggest we do it? That's a lot of people no matter which way you cut it; how are we supposed to gather them all together in such a short amount of time and more importantly where are we going to gather? None of the Havens are built large enough to accommodate all of those people, and all of Belterre's former cities were utterly destroyed during the wars. There's nothing left and no place for us to retreat to even supposing we could pull off the miracle of having every single last haven pull up all of their stakes and move suddenly across the country solely on your say-so."

"Oh we'll do it," she said confidently. "There are not really very many other options."

"We could negotiate with Sacred Omega," Bryson pointed out again. He was really pushing that idea, she wondered why. Sure, they sort of scared her too, a little but that was only because they possessed a lot of weapons and some unknown objectives.

"We're not going to negotiate with Sacred Omega. I don't trust them. Besides, I already have someone I'm negotiating with."

"Not those Preventors," he muttered. "We don't know anything about them."

"We know plenty about Sacred Omega now, and none of it's good," she replied.

"We don't know for certain that they actually plan to attack us," he pointed out.

"I'd say it's likely. They've obviously been planning this strike against whoever it is they're interested in striking against for quite a long time. They chose Belterre to build their base of operations because we're supremely isolated and they could build as they saw fit without any interference from the Preventors of the outside world or much from us. Now that they're ready to move, the first place they're going to attack is nearby and I'll tell you why. While we're not a very big threat to them at their current strength, we're still a threat. Sure they went along with us while they were preparing to move and gathering their forces but now that they're at full strength they won't want a possible threat to their plans or their holdings living right next door. That's the first rule of successful war strategy; consolidate your powerbase before you move on to attack your enemies. Homeguard is all around them and we have weapons and the ability to fight them. They won't want a force with the possible power to wipe out their main base of operations hanging over them like the sword of Damocles while they march out to take over foreign lands."

"So what you're saying is that they'll attack simply because we're here?" he said glumly.

"Precisely," she replied. "We have little time to waste."

"Okay, so what about those Preventors? What do you plan to do about them?"

"I want to meet with their leader face to face, and I want to give them all the information we have on Sacred Omega as a gesture of good faith."

"You can't do that!" Bryson protested.

"Why not?" she asked mildly. "It'll work out fine. We move the people of Belterre out of the way, Homeguard pulls back to man the main defenses only; we let the giants into the playground and let them hack it out. They're the ones with the problem after all; they should fight it out where only the most troublesome ones can get hurt. I don't care if the two of them kill each other, as long as they do it where my people don't get caught in the middle."

"And what happens after the battle?" he questioned.

"With any luck the ones we sided with will win and remember our willingness to assist them and that will translate to favored trading conditions, treaties and agreements."

"And if the Preventors lose and we have one pissed off Sacred Omega after our skins in our own territory?" Bryson pressed.

"It won't be so bad," she said confidently. "By that point Homeguard and the Coordinators will have us all so very firmly entrenched in our new accommodations so that it really will take an army to get us out of there. Sacred Omega for its part will not only be weakened by the recent battle against the forces of the Preventors but they'll also have to bring the battle to us and wage it on our turf and then Homeguard will do what it's so very good at."

"Which is to say we'll lay out traps throughout the countryside and demolish their forces by bogging them down, blowing them up, overturning them, skirmishing, and generally making overly large nuisances of ourselves while slowly eating away at both their forces and their morale until they at last cede the fight and leave our turf," he said clinically.

"Well, that is what we do," she said agreeably. After all, they had won one war like that.

Bryson sighed.

"You certainly seem confidant," he said. "I only hope you're not being overly confidant."

"Well, it's not a fact yet and we need to get some serious planning in ahead of time if we're going to make a go of this. But first... we still have a meeting to attend."

"I assume that this recent information has upped your little timetable a bit," he said.

"Yes," she replied. "I had originally wanted to get to know the Preventors as an agency a little better, get more of a feel for the room so to speak, but with everything else I'm going to need to do to make this work I don't have the luxury of time. I'll just have to trust my instincts and hope for the best."

"Great," he muttered.

Midii ignored him turning to the little Homeguard member who had brought them the news.

"Callahan," she said abruptly.

"Kallan, ma'am," he said diffidently.

"Sorry, Kallan then. I want you to take the fastest possible transport you can find and go to back to your sector. Go to each of the Havens if you have to but tell them that I am holding a grand meeting with all of the Coordinators in two days time and I don't care how they do it but they have to be there."

"Ma'am!" he snapped to his feet, saluted and sped off hot-footed.

"A meeting of all of the Coordinators of all of the Havens all at once?" Bryson said, raising a brow. "It's never been done."

"Now's as good a time as any and better a time than most," she replied.

"And just where do you propose we house all of Belterre's refugees once we have them all gathered together Midii? We still have no place to put everyone. None of the Havens will fit everyone in this country, that's well over forty thousand people at the very very least."

"Well, those Provies built us that nice city," she said with a conspirational smile that had just a touch of mischeif to it. "It would be rude of us not to take them up on their offer for a visit wouldn't it?"

"Very rude indeed," he said, a matching mischievous smile working its pleased way across his face.

Next time on Legacy: In which our heroes get the feeling that something is amiss….

_Heero__ nodded. That confirmed it; Midii Une was officially planning something. The sooner the Lady arrived here, the sooner they might know what that something was. _

Our heroine plans a monumental but necessary task…

_She still wasn't entirely certain that it was possible to pull off what she had in mind no matter how confidently she reassured her second in command._

_It was impossible, there was no way they could make it within that time frame. But the stark cold fact of the matter was that they had to... there was no other choice._

_ Job had it easy, she thought._

And at last they face each other alone…..

_She met his eyes without hiding, her expression was both open and stubborn, and perhaps a little defiant. Trowa advanced until they were inches apart. He looked down at her and dropped his mask of harmlessness, letting her see and remember the deadly creature he could be. He had the vague satisfaction and disappointment of seeing a tiny drop of fear creep into her eyes._


	4. In which reflections are made

Heero could not have been more surprised by the way this meeting was turning out than if Relena had announced plans to sprout bird wings from her back and fly under her own power from here to L1.

The moment he walked into the room she'd gestured him and Trowa to a chair and starts out with a very blunt "this may seem a little unusual for a second date, but I want to meet your parents." Meaning that she'd wanted to meet with Lady Une in person as soon as humanly possible on a matter of very grave importance for all concerned. She needed to know not just the strengths in numbers of the Preventors but also the strength of the Preventors leadership and that was not something she would get by hearing about the Lady from either of them or even by talking to her over the vid-link (which she did not have access to). Midii needed to take the Lady's measure face to face. Of course, he had already intended to ask for an invitation but since things were going his way anyway he wasn't going tell her that. Cautious was the way to play the game.

Her second in command clearly wasn't happy about it, and in his position Heero wouldn't have been either; after all Miss Une had known the two of them as Preventor Agents for roughly three hours the previous evening, that wasn't very much time to make an impression. Inviting their leader and whatever other friends she might decide to bring along was a rather risky move; they might just bring enough of a force to usurp her position and take over.

Since she had no way of knowing that such a scenario wouldn't be the case Heero had to wonder if perhaps Midii Une wasn't being a little too trusting. Then again, she was keeping the details of why she wanted to meet with Lady Une under tight wraps, so perhaps trusting wasn't a word that could apply to the little missie. Heero could hazard a guess that it had to do with the messenger who had come speeding into camp like his ass was on fire earlier that day. He felt that if it had been a matter involving the Raiders or some form of natural disaster Miss Une would have sent her Homeguard out or handled the matter herself. Which only left Sacred Omega. Well, it left a lot of things, but Sacred Omega was foremost on his mind. Something had to have changed; her body posture said she was feeling a little worried and her manner was just on the edge of distracted, as if she were trying to think of ten different things at once. He'd seen Quatre get that look when he was planning a very big strategy.

"She's planning something," Trowa mouthed to him, knowing fully well that Heero could read lips. Miss Une was looking over at her partner who had just said something. "I would guess that it's something big, but she's really worried."

Heero nodded. That confirmed it; Midii Une was officially planning something. The sooner the Lady arrived here, the sooner they might know what that something was.

It was late in the night, almost midnight, and Midii was still wide awake in her tent poring over the maps of her country and the latest report from her scouts. She had sent out an entire detatchment of her Homeguard that afternoon on the fastest transports she had available to run to all the sectors and tell the Havens Coordinators therein that there would be a meeting roughly the day after tomorrow and they needed to be there or else things would go badly. Now she was worrying over whether they would have the facilities to accomodate this meeting of hers at this Haven which was already burdened with nearly a hundred unexpected guests.

The storm that was said to be on the way still hadn't struck, and that worried her. On top of all the other worries she was harboring at the moment, what was one more really? Raiders, refugees, Homeguard, foul weather and a Sacred Omega that was currently well on its way to arming itself well enough to wage war on a small country, namely her smal country; if things could possibly get worse she really didn't want to know. For the hundredth time that day she looked over the map of her tiny country with anxious eyes.

How was she going to do it? How was she ever going to pull off moving well over forty thousand refugees from all over the place to one centralized location in the amount of time she had before they became fully oppeational; plus pull off negotiations with the Preventors? She wasn't a saint for crying outloud! She hadn't really even asked for this position; she had just sort of gotten it by default because no one else was doing anything. If not her then who? Someone with less ethics? Someone who wouldn't care how many lives were spent as long as thier objectives were reached? No, she couldn't allow that. The blood of her fighters was as precious to her as her own blood; any lost fighter on her Homeguard could mean the difference between a victory and a defeat. Defeat was not an option; it hadn't been an option with the Alliance, it wasn't an option with the Raiders and it couldn't be an option with Sacred Omega.

She still wasn't entirely certain that it was possible to pull off what she had in mind no matter how confidently she reassured her second in command. With thirty-three sectors in Belterre, and at least five Havens within each sector that was one hundred sixty five at least; the maximum capacity for each Haven was three hundred... she added the numbers up in her head. Almost fifty thousand at the minimum. She turned to her map and counted out all of the Havens to get a more accurate picture of how many people she would be dealing with. There were two hundred and twenty seven Havens in all; oh, so it was on average about seven Havens per sector. Three hundred people each; that came out to sixty-eight thousand and one hundred. Add on the staff of Coordinators and sub-Coordinators at fifteen heads per Haven and it brought the total to over seven thousand. She felt a dull throb start to form just behind her right eye. Right at that moment it seemed like an impossible number. How was she going to get that enormous an amount of people to quietly pack up their things and sneak off to the capitol without being seen and have them all there within a week and a half so she could have her Homeguard begin building defenses around the city she planned to take over? It was impossible, there was no way they could make it within that time frame. But the stark cold fact of the matter was that they had to... there was no other choice.

Job had it easy, she thought.

Underneath all of these other worries was one worry she dared not worry about because if she did she knew she'd get so distracted she wouldn't be able to concentrate on her Herculean tasks. Nanashi, or Trowa Barton as he had decided to name himself... why Trowa Barton though? It was a rather obvious name, just like Heero Yuy was an obvious name. Maybe nameless soldiers had taken to choosing obvious names.

She shook her head. She couldn't afford to think about him right now, but her thoughts refused to listen to her stubborn common sense. She couldn't help thinking about him; the fact that he was in her camp right then at that very moment made her feel nervous, more than nervous... it made her feel that creeping almost ever-present sense of guilt that silently dogged her footsteps. And whenever he was in the same room with her she felt hyper-aware of his presence. She felt she covered it well but when he was sitting there looking at her with those peircing green eyes of his... it just made her feel... intensely self-conscious. She'd always thought that the saying "I could feel his eyes on me" was just a saying but now she knew better; it was true, it was like an actual physical sensation all along her skin. It felt like his gaze was trying to bore a hole right through body and read the contents of her soul within.

And the fact that the two of them had an unfortunate history didn't help matters any either. Everytime he walked into the meeting with her the "white elephant" walked right in along with him; not a real elephant of course but with the nearness of the circus he certainly could bring an elephant in with him if he'd cared to, that is if he could get it to fit inside her tent which really wasn't likely... Where was she going with this?

There! she scolded herself. You think about him for even a moment and your mind starts babbling! She really had to get a grip.

He made her feel nervous and a little ashamed because they had this big terrible uncomfortable subject between them that neither of them openly mentioned and he kept hinting at and she kept trying to ignore and it was really hanging over the both of their heads like the sword of Damocles. She caused the death of all of his comrades, she'd become his friend and then betrayed him. She knew he had to hate her for it and she wanted to be able to hate him for hating her but she couldn't because she didn't blame him for hating her because she hated herself for what she'd done. And that was the center of it all; she couldn't forgive herself and she desperately wanted to, so she went through her life feeling horrible and trying to push that feeling away by trying to atone for what she done in her own mind... but no accomplishment however great made the guilt go away. Now that Nanashi/Trowa was in a place where his eyes bore into her and he reminded her every other minute of this horrible thing she had done to him that she just couldn't shake she felt worse and worse.

Damn. It was one big mess. The truth was she still cared about him. She wanted to make things better between them but how did someone make amends for something like that? She was too ashamed to talk to him openly, and she didn't know what she could possibly say to make up for it. "I'm sorry," seemed inadequate and it changed nothing. There was nothing she could do that would fix what she'd done to him; there was nothing she could say that would possibly make it right. So every time she saw him she just felt absolutely terrible. He was right there! The least she could do was say something.

Coward, she berated herself. Weak, selfish; no good! 

The few times she'd found a mirror to look in, Midii never saw a good or noble person looking back at her. All the rest of Homeguard and the people she tried so hard to protect thought she was some kind of holy saint; but that was because they didn't know what she was truly like inside. They didn't know the horrible thing she carried with her the she felt ashamed of. They didn't know that she was afraid, and that she was too weak and scared to tell the one she cared about how she felt. All they saw was the brave, honest, feirce, proud and noble woman she tried to project. They all saw Number One; protector of the defenseless, leader of Homeguard, scourge of the Alliance (and anyone else who came into Belterre with the intention of waging war on her home ground). They saw the woman who put their lives and safety above her own, they saw the woman who would face fire, darkness, and death to protect her precious homeland. They saw what they needed to see, but she knew the truth about herself; she was a liar, and a betrayer, and someone who didn't deserve to live. She wasn't brave or noble or honest, she only wished she was.

She tried hard to be that good person who was honest with others and who could face down any hardship or task without batting an eye, who never lost confidence, who was always strong and steady but she knew the truth. She saw the truth about herself in the way she fought. She never engaged the enemy forces head on but always from the shadows; she'd had all of her Homeguard trained in skirmishing instead of open combat so that she wouldn't have to risk them as often. She had her fighters sabotage the enemy weapons and machinery, scatter their supplies and make them unusable, destoy what minor outposts and enemy structures they could without getting caught and then, only when the enemy was crippled and demoralized, did they dare attack. Or, if she had to run a defensive tactic she always made sure she had more numbers that she expected her opponent to have and she fought where the terrain could favor her and her tactics were always of a boom-surprise nature. She often felt proud of what she and her Homeguard had been able to accomplish with what little they had, but then there were times like this when she started thinking about it, and it all suddenly seemed very cowardly to her.

Feh! I think too much, she thought, turning back to her map. She roughly shook herself out of her melancholy mood. Thinking about Nanashi and everything that had happened always caused all of her old doubts and insecurities to show up univited and wreck her self-confidence party. Right then she couldn't afford to thow herself a pity party, she had a lot of people who were counting on her and she needed to be the kind of woman they could count on.

Okay, listen up Midii because I'm only going to say this once, she thought sternly at herself, straightening her spine and frowning for good measure. As the leader of Homeguard you have to be stronger than all of your own weaknesses. If you don't like something about yourself then change it, if you think you're a coward about something then face it; but don't wallow in misery and self-doubt, because you've got a lot bigger things to worry about. You don't gain or change anything by running away. 

There! Pep-talk over with. She felt better. Confidence restored and all of that. The moster was back in the closet for now but she knew deep down that it would be back out again once the lights were off to prey on her in her weaker moments. But for the next few days she intended to keep herself so busy that she didn't have time for weak moments. Having an impossible task to occupy her time would likely ensure it too. But first... perhaps she should stop running away and finally face what was bothering her so much. Nanashi and the whole issue with him was a chink in her armor large enough to drive a mobile suit through and she needed to get it out in the open and resolved for better or worse before she tried to take on the monumental task of setting things up for this massive migration of hers. If she wasn't at the top of her game then everything stood a real chance of falling apart, and she had too many people counting on her to let that happen.

Trowa couldn't sleep. On the nearby pallet in the tent platform they'd been assigned along with about five others Cathy slept the sleep of the just, sound as a rock. Trowa sighed, the hard wood of the platform beneath him softened only by a thin foam mat didn't bother him for he'd slept on worse back in his lifetime as a soldeir and his body was more accusomed to that than the softness of a bed. His sleeping accomodations didn't bother him, the thoughts whirling around in his head did.

Midii Une; his old arch nemesis if he'd ever had such a thing. It was an unexpected and unpleasant surprise to be faced with her again so suddenly. Over the years his mind had gradually painted her into this looming specter made of all of the things that were bad in the enemies he'd faced; that they were selfish, that they often killed without remorse, that they would lie, trick and manipulate people to get their way. She was the enemy and he'd felt justified in disliking her now. But his hazy memories were reminding him that he hadn't hated her then; in fact, he hadn't really cared one way or the other. He'd mourned the loss of the Captain, the only real father figure he'd ever had as a nameless boy-soldier, but he hadn't been angry then. So what had changed?

If he didn't hate her back then, why did he hate her now? If he wasn't angry back then why was he so angry with her now? She wasn't the evil villainess his mind had built up over time; casual observation told him this, but he somehow refused to hear it. It was like something in him wanted to be angry with her!

He didn't understand it, but he felt it. It was like a snake made of hot, slow burning coals coiled around inside his stomach. He was genuinely angry with her and he wanted her to know that he was angry. Like some demon possesed him, he needled her at every opportunity during the meetings she had requested of them. It was hard to tell whether she was affected by it or not because she'd been treating them both with unwavering respectful politeness throughout the meetings they'd had. He could read that she was worried, but that could be attributed to whatever it was that had made her need to meet with Lady Une so quickly and suddenly. He didn't want her worried, he wanted her aware that he was displeased. He wanted her to stop treating him as if he was merely some casual stranger she had no connection whatsoever with.

There was a small part of him that was appalled at his behavior and his apparent desire to poke and prod at her until she reacted, that whispered the word "persecution" into his conscience, he was wondering what was happening to him. He'd never been vengeful before, but the fact that she treated him and Yuy on the same level even after all that she had been through with him really irked him badly.

She wasn't a villainess, but perversely he wanted her to be. She had been irritatingly honest and frustratingly fair in her dealings with them and the people they traveled with. She had rescued the circus civilians when it would have been easier for hir if she had ignored them, she had given them all shelter when she could have sent them on their way through possibly dangerous territory, she had asked her people to feed them even when her own people's resources were stretched thin. And that was just the way she treated strangers in general, the way she'd treated himself and Heero as emissaries of the Preventos Agency had been annoyingly above reproach. She had not withheld information from them when she could very easily have done so, her questions when she asked them had been more along the lines of broad general inquiries concerning their chain of command and the way they worked insted of specific inquiries about their strengths and weaknesses, and she never reprimanded or even indicated the slightest degree of upset no matter how he probed her.

Then there was that Michael Bryson character. Trowa liked him even less than he disliked Midii. He was cocky, and not in a way that was disarming. He was too familiar with his commanding officer and Midii let him be! She treated him like a spoilt, favored firstborn son; she indulged his casual treatment of her, humored his stupid witty remarks and ignored his cavalier behavior. There was an obvious bond of affection between the two of them, and the guy always seemed to be handling her. It wasn't in a loverly fashion, but he often put his hand on her shoulder or squeezed her arm and she'd just look at him with silent thanks. Trowa felt threatened by him somehow; well not overtly threatened, Trowa was a Gundam pilot and it was hard to feel overtly threatened by a person he could probably snap in half without having to use his mobile suit. But nevertheless Trowa disliked Bryson immediately and intensely. He would definately bear watching in the future. His thoughts were chasing themselves in circles around his head; he needed to get out for some fresh air.

Outside, the air was cool and heavy with the scent of rain, and the vague chill nip in the air was a portent that winter was not far off for this country. He wandered aimlessly around the Haven. Up on the watchtowers Homeguard members vigilantly manned their posts, searching for any sign of trouble in the nearby area. The fires in the fire-pits were banked for the night and all but one or two of the tent-platforms around the pits were dark with sleeping inhabitants. There was a bad storm expected in the area very soon, and since the circus' trailers and rigs that had been left behind in the flood and retreived later were still being maintenended by the Homeguard's mechanics they were likely going to be stuck in this place along with everyone else when it blew through. Perhaps he was only restless. He continued wandering around the camp.

During his stay there for the past day or so he'd gathered that Highground Haven had been moved very recently due to flooding; despite that fact the place was still sturdy, well fortified, and neat and sanitary. Trowa recognized that it was also made almost entirely of things scavenged from the military. Given what Midii had said about the mobile suits being "requisitioned" by force from the Alliance military it came as no surprise that the rest of the stuff that kept all of the refugees fed, watered, sheltered, and sanitized also came from the military. If there was one thing the military was good at it was producing tough, durable, dependable, and useful objects that could take a beating and keep on coming back for more. The cook-tents and portable heating surfaces within were standard military feild issue, as were the mess-tents, the portable showering units that had been erected near the water purifying tanks were also the collapsable affairs the military favored, and the main command tent that the Coordinator lived and worked in was a model H307 Wetdog, seven feet high at the apex fiteen feet by twenty feet in length and width. Most of the other tent platforms in the place were a combination of hand built wood frames serving as the walls and floors with military heavy canvas stretched overtop as a roof. This place, despite its fortified walls and sturdy wood tent platforms, was only temporary. It was like a little purgatory where the refugees were waiting until it was safe enough for them to move on with thier real lives and begin rebuilding. It was also highly mobile; he wasn't sure if that was because they'd recently had to move due to flooding and they hadn't gotten a chance to settle in like they wanted to or if all Havens were built as temporary bivouacs and they were all that mobile.

Maybe this place was getting on his nerves too. He'd been raised a soldier from as far back as he could remember which meant that he had spent just about his entire life in military structures just like this. Now that he was no longer needed very much as a soldier, he was rather proud of his civilianhood. Sure, he still traveled around in a tent; but it was a colorful tent and in it he did his job and brought laughter and smiles to young faces. Maybe being stuck back in a drab rather hopeless looking military environment was reminding him of the kinds of things he'd rather forget. Like his past.

He looked over at the large tent just to the fore of the tents where the Homeguard fighters, mechanics and support team resided (which was also right in front of their precious few beat-up old mobile suits) that Midii had held her meetings with Heero and himself in. The light was still on. Silluetted against the cloth of the canvas by a lantern on the inside he could see her form still bent over a table. He watched her shadow massage its temple like she had a headache. She was planning something, that much he knew; but he got the feeling she didn't actually hold out much hope about it becomeing a reality.

In a place like this, I'll bet it's hard for anyone to hope to make much of anything a reality, he thought. The surroundings were utilitarian and drab, a mix of greys and browns that seemed to seep into each other lifelessly. It was utterly cheerless, with a rather "Welcome to the Apocalypse" feel to it, like in all those old moveis where the world has ended and the last few desperate humans are banded together and struggling to exist.

Midii's shadow stretched her arms far above her head and arched her back against the back of her folding chair then rose and shrunk her way toward the exit of the tent. She didn't notice him as she emerged, rubbing one eye tiredly. Geez, she looked... careworn. It wasn't the well-worn state of her clothing or even the painfully thin form of her frame that bespoke not enough meals all the time. It was something about her face, her eyes perhaps; they looked shadowed. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering in her grey canvas parka that was only about three sizes too big for her. She looked up at the dark night sky and inhaled deeply.

"Winter is coming," he read on her lips. Her eyes grew even more worried. "What bad timing."

Bad timing? he thought. What's badly timed? 

Midii walked over to a large plastic bin at the base of one of the cook tents nearby and opened the lid, extracting a canteen and a thin package of some kind of food. More military rations. She slouched down on top of the box after she replaced the lid and tore open the contents of the package then opened the canteen. Some midnight snack; plain water and those hard crackers that came with the Meals Ready to Eat that even most soldiers wouldn't touch unless they were desperate. The crackers went by a variety of mocking and descriptive nicknames; roof shingles, floor tiles, bricks and hard tack among them. It must be an aqquired taste. he looked around him again. And he would bet that the situation in this place had been desperate enough quite a few times for some people to aqquire it whether they liked it or not.

She looked around, her eyes scanning about habitually, and she looked surprised when she spotted him leaning casually against the leg of a mobile suit observing her. She averted her eyes and ducked her head down, looking for all the world like she was... afraid of him? Hn. Odd, she hadn't acted like this when they'd been confronted with each other during the meeting in her tent. She'd been polite, but all business; calm, professional, and utterly unruffled. Now she looked embarrased and hesitant. She glanced off to one side, indecision written on her face; then snuck another glance at him. Trowa remained unchanged, not even the wind ruffled at his hair.

Midii changed her position, unbending her legs in preparation to get up from the top of the box she sat on. She was looking away again, clearly debating with herself. Trowa remained there, watching her. A few moments later she snuck another glance at him, then looked down again and hesitantly rose to her feet. She was clearly thinking about approaching him and trying to gauge whether she should or not. She looked over at him, and then looked down, then a few seconds later she flicked another glance back at him.

Make up your mind, he thought irritatedly. He wasn't sure whether he wanted her to or not; as long as she stood there in indecision he had the option of walking away without having to talk to her but if she came over he might be forced to interact with her. he'd move, but Trowa didn't feel like moving righ then. He'd come out for fresh air and this particular spot was... better than the one twenty feet away in the other direction and out of her eyeshot.

She glanced at him once again and took a hesitant step in his direction. When he didn't twitch a muscle she took another step. She was like a shy forest creature tring to guage whether a new comer to her lands was going to attack her for food or not. She did have remarkably doe-like eyes; large and round and full of that hunted animal look, that please don't hurt me because I can't defend myself look. That look that had gotten him to take her in, he reminded himself of that. But he still didn't feel like moving, the air was remarkably good in that spot he had found. She seemed to gather her courage and walked over in his direction in earnest, her booted footsteps firm on the gravel paths that were what this Haven had for roads.

Midii reached his side.

"Good evening," she greeted sombrely.

Trowa nodded silently in return. Great, she was going to make with the small talk. Trowa hated small talk. Why couldn't people just say what they had come to say right off the bat without having to inquire about his health, the health of his family, and a comment or two on the weather?

"I hadn't expected to find you out this late but since you're here and we're alone I wanted to talk with you," she said. Trowa gave no sign of surprise but he was a little surprised; it wasn't often that someone was that straightforward.

"About what?" he replied at last.

"Us. That. You know," she said. Trowa nodded, he knew. There was a long silent moment. At last she moistened her lips and said

"There's nothing I can say that will make it better. There's nothing I can do that will give you back the lives of your comrades..."

There was a moment of silence again where Midii couldn't go on and Trowa paused to analyze her words and tone. She hadn't rehearsed what she was going to say, but her words were sincere and possibly straight from the heart. Supposing she had one of course. With difficulty she took a deep breath and went on.

"If it's at all possible, I'd like to try to make amends with you," she said. He studied her face from beneath his hair; she looked nervous, guilty, and a little hopeful. Trowa didn't know what o say, so as usual he said nothing.

"Er... Well, I know this seems a little sudden and maybe several years too late but... I-I just want you to know that, I ah..." she trailed off, looking down and away. Taking another breath she visibly steeled herself, raised her face to meet his gaze squarely and continued.

"I know I can't change the past, but I can shape the present and perhaps create the future. I don't want to repeat my mistakes, so I'm asking if there's a chance that you can... that you can forgive me. I wan't to be your friend. I want to help you."

Forget the past? he thought. Not possible. If you can't change it, then why bother? 

Trowa stood leaning casually against the leg of the beaten-up mobile suit with his arms crossed and his expression as closed and inscrutable as ever, his cool gaze picking her apart molecule by molecule. Then he abruptly changed positions, moving with the ease of a hunting predator, he suddenly stood before her. He'd always been a little taller than she, but now he positively towered over her, his shadow darkened her pale features. Maybe it was just that there wasn't very much to her; Midii was wraith-like thin, a whisp of a woman, but she stood there unafraid. She met his eyes without hiding, her expression was both open and stubborn, and perhaps a little defiant. Trowa advanced until they were inches apart. He looked down at her and dropped his mask of harmlessness, letting her see and remember the deadly creature he could be. He had the vague satisfaction and disappointment of seeing a tiny drop of fear creep into her eyes. He brushed past her with his hands in his pockets and walked back to his tent without another word. He wasn't certain exactly what kind of message Midii would have gotten out of that moment in reply to what she'd hoped; he wasn't even certain what he'd meant to say.

But in that moment where he'd had her entire being captured to his hand, he could have sworn he'd felt his heart beat oddly.

Next time on Legacy: In which Lady Une and Number One of Homeguard have a meeting…..

_"We've arrived," Wufei announced blandly as he expertly brough the chopper down for a smooth landing._

_"This is the place?" Lady Une inquired looking out of her window at the sight of a steel reinforced sandbag wall with metal siding planted on it for extra sheilding. Manned watchtowers rose above the walls, giving the place more the look of a fortified fortress than a meeting place for peacful negotations._

_"These are coordinates Heero gave us," Wufei replied, his voice stiff with dignity._

_"Its certainly very..." Une trailed off._

Lady Une gets several very unpleasant surprises……

**_"We're being attacked!"_**

****

**_"Attacked!" Une said in alarm. "By who?"_**

****

**_"Sacred Omega._****_ They've found the weapons cache. We're fighting them off but they've already destroyed half of out munitions and suits!"_**

****

And Trowa and Midii have a not-fight.

_"You're going to hurt yourself," he pursued. His voice sounded closer._

_"If I were it would have happened by now," she replied, not sparing him a single glance. "This isn't anything I'm not accustomed to. I may pilot a mobile suit when the need calls for it, but that doesn't mean pushing buttons and pulling joysticks are my most strenuous activities."_


	5. In which meetings are held &tempers lost

Midii awoke the next morning feeling heavy and thick. It was cloudy outside again, and cold, the combination of the two had always made her reluctant to rise out of bed; part of her always felt like it was asleep on days like this. The thin watery sunlight combined with the chill and the damp that seeped into her blanket, and into her clothes, and into her very bones, made rising and moving about feel like slogging through hip-deep mud. It was going to be one of those days where she never felt fully awake, not matter how much terrible coffee she drank. Just thinking about all she had to get accomplished in that day made her want to snuggle back down into her damp little pallet and close her eyes again.

Up! she ordered herself, tossing off her nice warm (if thick, heavy and scratchy) military blanket. The air was too cold with the nip of the coming winter as she hurriedly donned the midnight blue cover-all that was her Homeguards official unofficial uniform. Stuffing her besocked feet into her boots she rose and zipped the front of her uniform; she liked the fact that it was so easy to dress and undress and she could wear what she had that passed for sleeping clothes under it and no one could notice. She brushed her thick wavy hair hurriedly and tucked it into a secure french twist out of her way. The hair style was severe and made the features of her face look positively sharp, but if she was going to be in a battle later on that day (and with the way things had been going lately she didn't want to rule out the possibility) she didn't want to have to worry about her beautiful hair swinging into her face when she needed to see what was on her tac screens.

She stepped out of her tent and over to the mess tent for the Homeguard. Usually, when her mobile command post wasn't in the area, the Homeguard mess tent was only occupied by the cell of Homeguard that was assigned to that particular sector. The way she had things set up that had worked so well in the past was that there was one cell of Homeguard assigned to patrol and protect each of the thirty-three sectors of Belterre. On average the cells consisted of seven opperational mobile suits, twenty-two fighters, three mechanics, two medics, and one comm person. The ratio of pilot to ground fighters within any given cell of Homeguard varied but the numbers were roughly even. All totaled, Homeguard consisted of two hundred support team personnel, two hundred fifty mobile suits, and seven hundred and fifty fighters not counting her own mobile team that traveled with her.

She looked down at the updated list that her com-man had brought to her the previous evening. It was a depressing list and she didn't want to look at it. The tally had been updated after Sacred Omega got another drop of supplies and fighters late in that night. The total number of fighters came to one thousand and seven hundred combat personel and three hundred support personnel. Her scouts said that an even thousand of the new arrivals were wearing pilot suits and the remaining seven hundred fighters wore the livery of ground forces. Oh, and the mobile doll unit they had set up... preliminary estimates based on supplies and raw materials suggested that they had the capacity to assemble five hundred mobile dolls, provided that another shipment didn't arrive and increase the number.

She had stayed up all night doing the ratios in her head, and the numbers looked bleak no matter which way she cut it. She had a total of seven hundred fifty fighters in Homeguard if she assembled them all together, but Homeguard only had two hundred suits to fight with; aside of that only four hundred of her fighters were trained to pilot mobile suits, the rest were ground fighters specializing in munitions, demolitions, etcetera. By the end of the month Sacred Omega would likely be done with their production of mobile suits, her scouts estimated they wanted a suit for every pilot bringing the number to one thousand mobile suits. Her scouts reported that they had two hundred suits already completed; by the end of the week in five more days they would have reached half strength, two weeks after that, they'd be at full strength and ready to move out. At full strength Sacred Omega would outnumber Homeguard four times over mobile suit to mobile suit, and outnumber her ground fighters by four hundred heads. Trying to fight them would be suicide.

"Shit," she muttered. "That's over twice the number of ground fighters Homeguard has, even their support teams outnumber us. There's no way we can take them on in a head-on fight. Hell, my people aren't even trained in head on fighting. No; retreat and consolidate is the only option we have."

Belterre was a small country, but beautiful despite it's size; it's name "Belle-terre" meant "beautiful land" just as the Sanc Kingdom came from the word "Sanctuary." They had foothills mostly traveling along their western border leading to larger mountains toward the north. They had two, well actually three rivers that flowed west from the foothills to the east which held the sea, one of the rivers was a tributary to the southern-border-river and met it a hundred or so miles before it reached the sea. Unlike the Sanc Kingdom which had flat, wide open beaches and harbors, Belterre had rocky, craggy granite cliffs which rose at zero slope for about four stories above sea-level. To make matters worse, the seaside in front of those cliffs was dotted by rocky granite reefs with pointed spires jutting up at irregular intervals like the teeth of some enormous undersea dragon. No harbors in this neck of the woods. There was one small speck of pebbly, flat, forgiving beach way to the south along the border river there but one had to be a very good sailor to navigate past the reef and the dragons maw to reach the beach and land there; and the river that flowed out from the land near that point made the current tricky. So, sandwiched between the mountains and the sea-clifs was all of Belterre's farmland; wide beautiful feilds with rich soil, and its forests green as an emerald with tall sturdy trees.

Of them all, Midii favored a tiny speck of land near the north and far to the east in sector four; it was at the summit of a steep granite cliff that overlooked the grey-blue sea for miles. With the waves crashing against the teeth in a froth of lacy white foam that roared like a lion, it was surrounded up to only a few feet away from the lands-end by the tallest most beautiful trees in the forest. She'd spent hours in the woods as a very young girl, following game trails and playing hide and seek with her brothers. She'd been forbidden to venture near the cliffs unsupervised as a child, but she'd often snuck out and done it anyway; she'd never been able to get enough of the stiff salty ocean wind on her face and the roar of the sea in her ears. That was her home, a place called Lyon's Peak. It was still the most beautiful place in the world to her. She dismissed her longing thoughts and settled back down to the urgent matter at hand.

She'd thought about it all night long and had come up with a time-table she thought might be able to work. Sector Twenty-nine was just on the western side of her country, a smidgen south of the middle. It was also the sector that played host to the "capitol" where the Provisional Government had settled in and built that useless city of theirs. The capitol was nestled quaintly near the hills that ran near the western edge of Belterre from the mountains in the far north to the Sanc Kindgom (or what was leftof it) in the south. It was also as close to the center of Beleterre as she could ask for. Despite that, there were sectors that were located quite a distance away from it that would have a harder time reaching the place in the time alloted. She tried to allow for that, but it was going to be close... if she could manage it at all.

The havens of the north and east-most corner of Belterre would have farther to travel of course but they could probably go down the sea routes a bit south then cut across to the west and save time. Sectors one through three were on the northern border near or in the mountains and of them, sector three was adjacent to water. There were two Havens along the clifside that could likely pull off a lift and dock manuver (using lines and balances to transport people down the vertical cliffside a few at a time to a floating dock and into boats for a southward trip between the reef and the cliff). The only matter that worried her about that was the fact that Sector twelve was also along that cliffside (soutward towards the middle), in a part of the land that jutted out like an enourmous flattened finger four stories tall; they were bound to notice all of the sudden sea travel in the area and wonder what was going on. She didn't want them catching wind of her plans and allowing for them. Well, perhaps the Coordinators could think of something.

As for the south of Belterre, there was a tributary to the river that formed the southern border of the country that ended only a few miles away from the capitol and would offer faster and easier transport over land for sectors thirteen through nineteen in the south east but the Southwest was hill country. Sectors thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, and thirty three were going to have difficulty in travel...

She looked again at her map, then went over to her travel chest in which she kept her other maps and looked around, leafing through documents and uncapping hollow plastic tubes full of plas-film over-maps. At last she found the one she was looking for. There had been a system of underground bunkers connected by tunnels built during the times when this country had been underseige by the one of the military groups that came before the Alliance. Most of those bunkers and tunnels had been built underneath the Hills traveling noth to south from sector twenty-two in the north west to sector thiry one in the south east. Even beter than that was the fact that there was a tunnel that traveled east-west. It went from the clifside of sector eight (which was sandwiched between sector sour in the north and the edge of sector twelve) west through sector four, five, seven, twenty three and twenty-two where it met up with the tunnel leading south to sector twenty-nine.

That's a lot of tunnel! I wonder how they kept all of that a secret, she wondered. And why... well, I guess I already know why; no point in having a secret escape route if eveyone knows it exists. Still, the monumental task of building that however many years ago must have been mind-boggling. 

The notes on the maps said the tunnels were around a hundred years old or so, at anyone's guess. She wouldn't have thought that something that old could possibly be much of a secret; then again, she didn't have to worry about whether it was a historical tourist attration in its day, she only had to worry about whether or not Sacred Omega knew about it and anticipated her using it (provided they somehow got wind of her plans). She was hoping to move fast enough to where Sacred Omega would be at least one step behind her, the tunnels would help conceal her peoples activities hopefully until it was too late.

That only left the Havens in sector nine, ten, eleven, twenty-four and twenty-five to worry about. Sectors ten and eleven bordered sector twelve, and even though the base of Sacred Omega was out past the edge of the forest on its jutting clifftop she didn't want to arouse their suspicions and tip her hand. The people in the Havens of that sector all lived near the eastern border inside the cover of th foresets. She was going to have to ask them all to start out travelling over land by night until they were well away.

Well, five days to transport roughly two-thousand people per sector overland, underland and by sea seven hundred miles at the maximum in secret? No problem.

Yeah right, she thought. Who am I kidding? 

At least all of the people were gathered in a somewhat central location. There were three hundred people in each Haven, but there wasn't anyone outside of those Havens which meant she didn't have to worry about hunting down every last person in any villages or solitary settlements. That was one blessing. Another blessing was that the Havens were accustomed to working together; times of tragedy and difficulty had made them interdependant on one another to get by. The Havens were also mobile. Most of the structures were military tents or flimsy cabins that were easily broken down. Because the Havens were never intended to be permanent structures it should be easy to disassemble them and move.

Well, maybe not easy, she corrected herself. One didn't live in a single place for at least four years and not have some more permanent un-movable structures after all. But doable. 

She met with the Coordinators tomorrow, so they'd all start arriving later today. That "Heero Yuy" fellow had told her that Lady Une would be arriving via helicopter at five o clock to meet with Midii. Well, she could hack this. She had more than enough to keep her mind occupied and not dwelling on the way things had gone between herself and Nanashi/Trowa late the previous evening.

"And where is Bryson?" she muttered to herself. She hadn't seen him at all last night after he left following her second meeting with the Preventors. Where could he have been disappearing to so much lately? Usually he was right there, at her side, helping her out and cheering her up and pissing her off all at the same time.

"Probably out chasing some skirt somewhere," she answered herself. Much as she loved her second and replacement older brother, she thought he could do with a little less womanizing. Then again, he couldn't hang around his little sister all the time; so maybe it was good thing he was getting out and getting to know new people (some of them better than others). Still, it would be nice if he'd find one single girl to settle on already; she really wanted to see her brother happy and in love. He seemd kinda sad. He accused Midii of being sad all the time, but to her mind being celibate was not the same as being sad. She just had very high standards... besides, who had time for a relationship when they were bouncing around this tiny country all the time in a mobile suit trying to solve everyone's problems? She'd find someone for her to settle down with after everything was over with and she was able to give up Homeguard and go home.

She was going to be holding that big meeting with two hundred twenty Coordinators plust two hundred twenty cell leaders of Homeguard. She had sent for them along with the Coordinators because she wanted everybody on the same page and doing the job they were supposed to be doing. She wanted each sectors cell of Homeguard running a guard watch on their one thousant eight hundred (give or take) civilians as they traveled to the capitol they were about to comandeer.

The five day time table wouldn't be easy, but she felt it could be done. The plan went something like this. She sends the Coordinators home with her marching orders that everyone needs to pack it up and ship it out. It takes a day to get organized; the Coordintators give thier sub-Coordinators the orders they need to get the basic supply caravans loaded and sent on ahead of them with provisions. Meanwhile the fighters for Homeguard are going to each of the Havens and dismantling their ground to air defense systems and packing that up to be sent ahead. Half of each cell would be going along to guard the transport leaving that night, and the other half would be left behind to guard the transports carrying the civilians on day three. That would take up Day One.

Day Two is spent getting the refugee civilians butts in gear; they get one day to pack all of their essentials and dismantle their tents for ship-out. She'd be lucky if the case was that it would only take a day. She didn't want a massive panic, she wanted an orderly migration; unfortunately with human nature she was more likley to get the massive panic. She'd be counting on the Coordinators to keep the panic to a minimum by providing calm, firm, discipline. These were refugees accustomed to being able to move at a moments notice to escape the shifting tides of war so perhaps, despite them having been somewhat settled for so long, things wouldn't be as bad as they could be.

Day Three was the first big day of transport. Each of the Havens would be sending in their first wave, or their first one hundred civilians, but most of the room on the transports was going to be taken up by sundries; shelters and supplies and things that they were going to need when they reached the capitol. Those traveling by sea and over open land would actually begin the night before. It was risky to ask someone to sail at night or in predawn, especially sanwiched between the reef-teeth and the stone cliffs, but she didn't want to risk Sacred Omega catching wind of thier plans. Most of Belterre was reachable within a five-hundred mile radius of the capitol city (except for nine of the sectors on the north-most border) so with any luck the motorized transports would be able to make the trip, drop of their civilians with the equipment, and come back for the rest.

Day Four was a two pronged attack. She wanted to return for the last of the civilians; without having to carry as many supplies in the cargo holds of the transports they should be able to fit the final two hundred from each Haven. Meanwhile at the capitol she wanted the civilians who had already arrived to begin working on setting up for the next wave. The Coordinators from each Haven would get so much space to begin pitching shelters along the same lines that they have in the Havens she was about to ask them to leave. The Homeguard teams she'd sent ahead with the first shipment would be responsible for beginning work on the city's defense; building sand-walls, hooking up the ground to air defense system and so forth. She didn't expect it to get done over night, but it was imperative that they start digging in and building those defenses.

Day Five... provided everything went according to plan and there were no majot set backs, was a day of rest. Everyone sleep in and party! Then it was back to work the next day to begin setting up the haven-camps in earnest and building the defenses.

Ambitious, but doable, she thought, her stomach clenching. The numbers are right, we have enough equipment... I hope; the load capacity is within acceptable levels for the equipment we'll be using. It should be fine. 

She must be out of her mind.

Lady Une sat in the small helicopter piloted by Wufei Chang, one of her finest agents, and Sally Po her most trusted agent. She looked out and down at the green carpet sprawled before her. She'd gone over her maps the night before and Belterre was a small, rather insignificant little country just north of the former Sanc Kingdom (now called the Republic of Sanc, since it no longer had a monarchy). It was about ten hundred fifty miles through the center top to bottom; eleven hundred thirty miles side to side and eighteen hundred or so miles measured diagonally. Not a very big place, but lke the Sanc Kingdom it was strategically located. The Alliance had had an interest in it... that was until the populace started fighting back. The alliance, being petty, had destroyed all of its cities in retribution before pulling out. Or had the cities been destroyed beforehand? Une couldn't remember, she'd had a lot bigger things to worry about at the time than the fate of one tiny country.

The report from Heero had been worrying. So Sacred Omega had decided to make this little backwoods its main base before taking on the Preventors and the Earth Sphere Unified Nation eh? Well, they'd have to do a lot worse than a handful of disgruntled farmers with pitchforks if they wanted to take her on. Une had access to the cache of weapons left undestroyed by her Preventors. Granted, the cache wasn't nearly the amount of armaments that she'd had access to as the commander of OZ, but it was nothing to sneeze at either. Most of the armaments were missiles and explosives for destroying weapons bunkers and such (which was what Preventors feild agent spent most of their time doing; rooting those bunkers out to destroy them and tracking down arms smugglers) but Une wasn't entirely without offensive forces either. There was the Tallgeese, which Zechs had left with her (seing as he'd only been borrowing it for the fight). She also had a hanger of mobile suits; Tauruses mostly, Aries suits, a few Leos and some Virgos. Her space patrolling forces had plenty of armed shuttles and a few suits outfitted for space combat. Oh, and the Gundam pilots but they had destroyed their Gundams.

If a Gundam pilot destroys the thing for which he is known, do you still call him a Gundam pilot? she wondered idly. Perhaps it was one of those questions that would never have an answer, like "if you lined the Tallgeeses up one two and three would you call them a gaggle or a flock?". Perhaps it was better that way.

With the growing scarcity of mobile suit parts and manufactories to make them, the cases of hidden stockpiles of armaments were growing fewer and fewer. In fact, for the last six months Une had only been getting the smallest of the small fry. Former arms smugglers were having trouble finding arms to smuggle and had resorted to switching venues; most of them were smuggling drugs or alcohol or other illegal substances and that was a matter for local law enforcement to worry about. She was beginning to think that there were no major weapons bunkers left in the Earth Sphere that weren't under Preventors control. There hadn't been a single major incident or even a fairly minor one for well over a year. That didn't mean she'd let her guard down, or let her Agent's training slip (oh no... she was Lady Une!) but that did mean she was feeling optimistic. Now with this overture for peaceful negotiation and possible future disarmament from the "Homeguard" there in Belterre things were really looking up. Une could understand them feeling tired of fending off bandits and appealing to a more powerful force to get rid of them for them so the poor civilians could get on with their lives. Sacred Omega was the icing on the cake.

Yes, Une anticipated a very successful day ahead of her.

"We've arrived," Wufei announced blandly as he expertly brough the chopper down for a smooth landing.

"This is the place?" Lady Une inquired looking out of her window at the sight of a steel reinforced sandbag wall with metal siding planted on it for extra sheilding. Manned watchtowers rose above the walls, giving the place more the look of a fortified fortress than a meeting place for peacful negotations.

"These are coordinates Heero gave us," Wufei replied, his voice stiff with dignity.

"Its certainly very..." Une trailed off. Heero and Trowa were emerging from the fort (with Relena in civilian disguise) to meet them.

She cautiously emerged from the helicopter, the fact that she was in unfamiliar territory with an unknown ally who might or might not decide to shoot her made her a little nervous... but Une was good with negotiations. She's convinced the colonies to accept OZ against their own better interests in 195, and she'd negotiated with the ESUN council many times to get extra supplies and funds for her Preventors lots of times. When Wufei and Sally joined her at her side the Lady felt better, however.

Heero and Trowa walked up and greeted her with all due respect and shared familiar and friendly nods (or at least as familiar and friendly as those two quiet ones ever got) with Wufei and then Sally.

"This way," Heero said, gesturing to the fort.

"We'll be surrounded by them," Wufei pointed out.

"The point of coming into the territory of the person you're trying to negotiate with is so that you demonstrate trust in them and their intentions Wufei," Une replied.

"I still don't like it," he rebutted.

"That's okay, no one's asking you to," Sally said agreeably. "Just keep an eye out."

Une walked under the gate-tower beneath the stares of curios on-lookers, many of which were dressed in some dark blue pilots/mechanics coverall. Those must be the Homeguard. When she entered the "Haven" proper she was brought face to face with a welcoming committee. A quick glance around brought into sharp clarity the state of things in this country. Everyone slept in tents, like in that story the Grapes of Wrath. Similar situation she'd bet, only they had a war in addition to just starving. The place was drab and very depressing. It was probably all of the military gear they were using.

The welcoming comittee was headed by a young blonde girl... she couldn't have been any older than Wufei and Wufei was her youngest agent. She met Une's gaze first and squarely, assessing her (Une was already returning the favor). The leader of Homeguard, for that's who she had to be because she matched the description, was petite with delicate features. wide cerulean blue eyes, a stubborn chin and an unconscious bearing of command. Her clothes, like everything else around the place were well-worn (nearly worn through), and she didn't decorate herself with any special signatures of rank. Une had observed that real leaders never needed them. There was a flicker of recognition in her eyes as they lit upon Sally Po. Her face suddenly split into a wide welcoming smile.

"Well blow up my mobile suit and call me a pacifist!" she called. "Sally Po."

An aswering smile stretched across Sally's face as she said

"Well, well, well, look at what the cat dragged in. Midii Une. How long's it been?"

"Long enough let me tell you," she replied. "Who are your friends?"

"Lady Une, directer of the Preventors," Sally said gesturing to her.

Midii stepped forward and presented her hand for a shake. Une took it. Number One had a very firm handshake, with callused palms that said she did her share of maual labor. So Lady Une would have said that she was a very hands on commander.

"And this is my partner Wufei Chang," Sally said. Wufei for his part assesed her with a very cool look and gave a dismissive snort. Sally and Midii looked amused.

"I can see why you like him," Midii replied. "He must be fun to mess with." Sally chuckled. Then Agent Water turned to Lady Une and explained

"We had fair dealings with each other in 195, having similar purposes and all of that."

Lady Une nodded in understanding. Sally Po had resigned from the Alliance and become a rebel freedom fighter. Heero had said that the Homeguard of this country had also made it their business to fight against the Alliance once upon a time.

Standing to the right of Number One was a taller young man maybe a year or two older than "Number One" with dark red hair; so dark that the red was little more than a highligh in the sun. He had measuring grey eyes that took Une and her company in with ease, she had the feeling that she was not only being physically assessed but that he was looking for all of her valuables with the eyes of a seasoned pickpocket. She'd have to watch her poketbook, she was glad she decided against wearing jewelry that was easily removable or very valuable. His gaze was also slightly unwelcoming. So, not everyone was happy with the leader decision to invite the Preventors in for tea and conversation. Une filed that away for later conversation.

"This is my second in command Michael Bryson," Midii said, gesturing to the young man on her right. he gave them a cool nod and remained where he was, arms crossed.

"These two gentlemen on my left are Coordinator Meitchel; he's the Coordinator here at Highground Haven. And this is his assistant, sub-Coordinator Mira Rillian. They run things in this particular Haven so if there's any question of accomodations or anything you need they've said they'll be happy to help you."

"Thank-you," Lady Une said. The two coordinators gave her welcomig smiles and shook her hand in turn.

"Now that we're introduced, please, right this way to the command tent," Midii said, politely gesturing Une to walk beside her as she and her second proceeded to the meeting place.

The command tent was another standard military issue command tent, Une was unsurprised to find. The interior was lit by several lanterns and there was a rickety folding table in the main room with a large map of Belterre pinned to it. On top of the map were several hanwritten papers and at first glance Une saw that it was filled with mostly numbers. After seating them all in folding stools that had seen better days she offered them tea and then said

"I'm not really one for small talk so I'll get right to the point," she said, clasping her hands in front of her and meeting Une's gaze directly. "I have some bad news for you all; well, actually it's bad news for us too but I'm betting you'll find it very bad news indeed."

"And what's that?" Lady Une inquired.

"When I met with your emissaries the first time I had said that the Sacred Omega base in sector twelve was mostly empty but for about thirty people, and that it had no weapons anywhere it it. Well, that's changed just recently."

Une raised her brows silently and inquired

"By how much?"

"By a lot. The most recent report I got from Com from my people in the feild have come up with numbers even more depressing than the last report. Now, I really don't want to offend anyone here but your emissaries told me that the Preventors are supposed to prevent fights by getting rid of illegal weapons caches."

"That is the Preventors main mission, correct," Une said. This was not what she'd expected at all.

"Then how is it that Sacred Omega was able to sneak as many weapons as they did into my country undetected?"

"What do you mean?" Une inquired.

"I mean this," she said pushing several night vision photographs at Une. Une looked down at the glossies for a moment, her eyes trying to make sense of the shifting shades of grey and shadows. When she did make sense of it, she really didn't like what she saw.

Armaments dropped by plane... a lot of them. Mobile suit parts and construction units, guns and munitions of all types, soldiers. This was not good.

"My Homeguard has been watching them carefully and we have some estimates... we don't know if they're exact but they should be pretty darned close," Midii said.

"How many?" Une asked, a little faintly.

Midii opened her mouth to reply, but was suddenly grabbed by the arm by her partner and hustled out of the tent with a half formed protest on her lips and confusion on her face. Her second was apparently very much against the idea of Midii cooperating with the Preventors.

There was a hissed conversation between the two of them just outside the tent, Une couldn't catch most of it but she got the gist. Bryson thought that giving all of thier information to outsiders they'd just met was a very very bad idea. Midii thought it was their only hope. Une would have continued to listen but her cell phone rang. It was her emergency phone.

"Une," she said crisply.

"Lady Une!" said a frantic voice from the other line. Une's first thought was that there was something wrong with Mariemaia. That conclusion was swiftly blown out of the water when the voice said.

"We're being attacked!"

"Attacked!" Une said in alarm. "By who?"

"Sacred Omega. They've found the weapons cache. We're fighting them off but they've already destroyed half of out munitions and suits!"

Lady Une nearly swore then and there but that would have been inelegant. Her mind quickly put some peices together. Not all of Sacred Omega had pulled back to their base camp, there were still some Agents left on the outside and they had been observing the Preventors for some time now. She knew they'd gotten too quiet. And now that Lady Une was away from the nest they attacked and destroyed all of her eggs.

"How many left?" she demanded.

"It depends on how quickly we can get them out of the cache. Maybe three hundred suits and five lockers if we're lucky," was the reply. "We'll handle things here, but the President will be wanting to speak with you shortly."

"I'll bet," she muttered. "thank-you. I'll be there directly after my meeting."

Normally she would have dropped everything and returned to the barn but the information she was likely to get out of Homeguard was going to be invaluable. She couldn't aford to leave righ then.

Midii returned to the inside of the tent... but she was alone.

"Bryson found something he needed to take care of right away," she said. It was obviously a lie, bryson didn't want Midii dealing with the Preventors so he'd probably stormed off in a huff.

"As I was saying," Midii said, re-seating herself. "The numbers we have so far are a little depressing, even for Homeguard. I'm sure you Preventors won't have a problem with them, Mister Yuy said your organization has enough personel to patrol both earth and outer space."

"That is true," Une temporized. All of this bad news all of a sudden had really rattled her. She took a long sip of her tea. Midii continued.

"We estimate that they have one thousand seven hundred combat personnel," Midii said, sounding as if she was talking about the weather. Lady Une nearly blanched.

"One thousand seven hundred? You're sure it's that many?" Sally inquired. Une was glad that she hadn't had to ask the question herself because her voice would surely have come out as a squeak.

"Roughly. That's the consensus anyway," she replied with a small shrug and went on. "Judging by their uniforms Sacred Omega has seven hundred ground fighters and ten hundred pilots."

"Pilots? As in mobile suit or as in planes and carriers?" Wufei questioned next, speaking for the first time at all during the meeting. His eyes had sharpened with interest; of course they would, he was anticipating a big fight on his hands.

"Mobile suit," Midii replied. "Now, as for their armaments... they have too much artlliery that landed before we could get an accurate account but it's more than enough to keep thier seven hundred ground fighters in bullets and explosives thoughout the worst fighting."

"Heavy artillery?" Sally inquired.

"Yes, and light too, with long range explosives thrown in for good measure," she replied readily. Midii was certainly being very helpful, Une wondered what she was after.

"And their mobile suits?" Wufei inquired.

"There's the interesting part. They landed in peices so we're not one hundred percent sure of the numbers. Sacred Omega has an assembly line going to put them all together in their base and judging by the amount, we estimate that there's a thousand suits to match a thousand pilots, or there will be once they're done putting them together. That's if they don't get another shipment of parts in."

"A thousand suits is a pretty steep number in these times," Sally said. "The Preventors have already wiped out most of the old Alliance and OZ weapons caches and whats left is just stuff that fell into the hands of the black market or the occasional rebel group that wasn't very careful."

"Oh, I almost forgot the mobile dolls," she said holding up a finger. "We don't know the exact number of those either, but we estimate roughly five hundred."

"Any more bad news?" Une said a little sourly.

"Homeguard likely won't be able to assist you should you decide to engage," Midii said apologetically.

"Why's that?" Heero asked, speaking for the first time during the meeting. "I've seen you fight off Raiders and your suits are in good repair if outdated, even if the numbers against us are greater, acting as back up for the Preventors on a fight like this should be well within your group's capabilities."

"It's been judged that Sacred Omega will not make a very friendly neighbor. Homeguards one and only objective is to protect the citizens of Belterre," she said. "To that end it has been judged wise that we should gather all of the civilians in one place and consolidate for a solid defense. Right now all of the Havens are small, spread out and a little isolated; Sacred Omega will be able to overcome each single Havens and Homeguard cells defenses easily and we'd fall like dominoes, sector after sector."

"So you're gong to tuck your tails between your legs and run away," this, predictably from Trowa, who had been needling at Midii in every meeting he had attended, or so Heero had reported to her. He'd taken it upon himself to be the bad cop, but Midii usually ignored him unless he had something useful to contribute. She could understand the young man carrying a bit of a grudge for something like that (Une had been dismayed when she'd heard of it) but carrying it into a discussion of tactics in such a manner was a trifle unprofessional. It wasn't at all like Trowa to be unprofessional. He must really not like this girl.

Midii ignored him without sparing him a glance and said

"Belterre has limited resources; allowing ourselves to become overrun serves nothing. I will be meeting with all of Belterre's Coordinators tomorrow to go over the plans for the massive migration of over seven thousand people within a space of five days. It should be interesting; if it can be done at all. What you decide to do about Sacred Omega and their base is up to you. They're only at half strength right now despite their extensive base defenses so if you intend to launch some sort of preemptive strike I suggest you do it quickly; they're finishing one mobile suit an hour in there or so my scouts report to me. It won't be long before they reach full strength."

"Thank-you Miss Une, your assistance and information has proved invaluable," Lady Une said.

"I'll say," Trowa agreed. "You want us to risk ourselves by going in there and getting rid of Sacred Omega for you while you and your forces and civilians pull back to a safer location so that you can build up your defenses enough to hold them off should we be destroyed by them."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Midii said, too brightly.

Lady Une shot a repressing glance at her part-time agent. Trowa had the unfortunate habit of being too observant and then taunting people with it. He'd done it to her once, when he'd been undercover in OZ as her little golden boy pilot.

"Miss Une is correct in her choice of actions," Lady Une replied. "If Homeguard's sole mission is, as she says, the protection and defense of the civilians of this nation then the situation with Sacred Omega is, by nature not their fight nor should they get involved in it. She was right to request help from the agency that is set up to handle problems like this. It was also wise of her to plan to move her people out of the way of the prospective battle; and if their Provisional Government has no part in it, then I would imagine that her people have got their work cut out for them. it would be a waste of their valuable and limited resources to try to fight a battle on two fronts.

Midii flushed a little and looked down.

"I'm just trying to do what I think is best," she said demurely. But there was a triumphant gleam in her eyes and a repressed smug smile tugging at her lips. Trowa obviously caught it too, for his expression darkened.

"Do you have any additional questions?"

"Yes actually," Une said. "What is the size of Homeguards forces as they stand, and do you plan on pursuing disarmament once the crisis is over with?"

"Homeguard consists of a total of nine hundred fifty people all totaled; two hundred support personnel, seven hundred and fifty combat personnel, three hundred of which are ground fighter and four hundred are mobile suit pilot trained. Plus there's two hundred fifty opperational mobile suits. As for disarming after the crisis is over with, well I guess that would depend on which crisis you mean. Sacred Omega is certainly a big worry to us, but the Raiders are also a very persistant nuisance. It wouldn't be wise of us to disarm after we get rid of one pest only so the wolves can descend to pick us off. But if the Raiders were to be brought down to manageable levels I would be more than happy to pursue disarmament."

"That's encouraging. Mister Yuy has reported that you've repeatedly sought help from the Provisional Government provided by the Romafeller Foundation and received no aid, is that correct?"

"Yes," she said, her voice was leaning more toward a growl; by her posture Lady Une could tell that it was a touchy subject for her.

"You are aware that as your government they have a duty and resposibility to assist the civilian populace in times of crisis are you not?"

"Oh they'll be assisting," Midii said with an almost predatory smile, like a shark with a whiff of blood in its nostrils. "Whether they want to or not."

"oh?" Sally said.

"Well, I need some place to put my people and they just built that nice city over in sector twenty nine. I think it's time they got to know thier people, up close and personal."

Sally shook her had in amusement.

"It's been... well I'd like to say it's been a pleasure but you did give us an awful lot of bad news," said Lady Une. "But it was certainly very helpful meeting with you. I look forward to congenial negotiations in the future."

"As do I, drop by at any time," she said, rising to shake the Lady's hand once more across the desk. Lady Une turned with Sally and Wufei to leave. Heero would be comming with them since he had requested that they pick up the woman under his guard, but Une had the undeniable feeling that all of them would be seeing a lot more of this place in a very short while.

Midii paused and wiped her brow then picked back up her sledge hammer and began her great circular swings again to pount the enomous metal tent peg into the ground. She had been lamenting the fact that she was soon going to be recieving four hundred plus guests the next day for an enormous meeting and she had no place to put them all. The manager of the circus, a middle-aged bearded man with a bright red coat, had overheard her and had generously offered to loan the use of his circus tent to her for the duration of his meeting.

She had insisted on helping them to assemble it, and most of the young strapping lads in the circus had been surprised when she'd simply picked up the five-pound sledge-hammer and started pounding away at the stakes as if she did that sort of thing all the time. Actually she did, being the leader of Homeguard didn't excuse her from doing her share of the heavy manual labor; at any given time she was hauling sandbags in a picket line, chopping wood, hauling water, digging latrine pits and helping with the building on any number of projects right along with everyone else. She looked delicate but she was wiry and tough with toned muscles due to a lot of hard work.

Some of the other members of Homeguard had offered to help her set up the tent along with a few of the circus people who were going to be directing them. The circus tent was a lot larger and constructed differently than the usual Haven's tents.

"That's in far enough," called one of the circus performers to Midii. She nodded and went to work on the next tent peg. This was no little five foot pup-tent so the stakes to secure the massive tent were as long as her arm and nearly as thick around as her leg. Of course, she had thin legs so perhaps it wasn't all that bad, but they certainly looked big to her. She picked up the sledgehammer and started pounding away, it was hot sweaty work but Midii actually preffered it that way; she felt warm for the first time all day! In nasty, mizzling weather like that with the constant chill and the damp seeping into everything it never seemed like she ever got warm enough. Standing in front of the fire-pit only warmed one side of her and the other was cold and creaky. Strenuous excersize however generated it's own heat, and with the need to concentrate on placing her blows exactly she didn't have the exrta time or concentration to worry about all the other details in her life like the upcoming meeting, or the big migration, or the raiders or the preventors, or sacred omega or... him.

I have so much stress right now, and all I really want to do is go home! she thought desperately. She wasn't sure she was up to the challenge of what she was about to do, she wasn't sure it could be done... but the likely result of inaction was a far greater price to pay than at least making the attempt. If she didn't move everyone out of the way then they'd all get killed or captured or maybe enslaved. The thought of all those bodies littering the ground...

No! she swore to herself. Never again! I won't be responsible for something like that ever again! 

She just wanted to climb into a nice soft warm bed somewhere and sleep until her next lifetime came around. She didn't want to have to wake up in the morning and face all of those responsiblilites she'd never even asked for.

"You look a little small for heavy work like this," an emotionless quiet voice from behind her said. "I think that hammer's almost as big as you are."

She gritted her teeth, just the person she didn't want to see right then. Despite the lack of any tone or expression whatsoever in his voice Midii just knew he was taunting her. She could feel it. She wasn't going to rise to it either. Instead she ignored him and kept swinging.

"You're going to hurt yourself," he pursued. His voice sounded closer.

"If I were it would have happened by now," she replied, not sparing him a single glance. "This isn't anything I'm not accustomed to. I may pilot a mobile suit when the need calls for it, but that doesn't mean pushing buttons and pulling joysticks are my most strenuous activities."

There was another long pause as she concentrated on her work. The peg was going in, slowly but surely. Heh, that should show him. A few seconds later, instead of leaving, he said

"Here, why don't you find something else to do and I'll take care of this? I'm sure there's lighter work around, you can help assemble the stands if you like."

"I'm not going to assemble the stands," she said taking another strong swing. "I'm working here quite well."

"Stop that before you hurt yourself," he said, reaching for her. Stupidly enough he came at her from the side and reached to take the handle of her hammer and nearly broke her swing as she clumsily changed the objects trajectory to one side to avoid hitting them both. She swerved out and away nearly falling over beore twisting like a cat and righting herself.

"Hey!" she cried, startled. "Watch it! You're going to get hurt if you do that. Or I'm going to get hurt. I can't afford to get put out of commission by someone else's foolishness at this time."

"It won't be a problem, just give me the hammer and go find lighter work to do," he insisted, sounding like she was the one being stupid. The nerve!

She paused for a moment, resting against the hammer, and glared at him.

"I will not," she said clearly. "And I'm certainly not asking for your help. I can do fine on my own."

"Don't be stubborn," he replied. "You're lucky if you reach five two, and you look like a high wind would pick you up and carry you off. You're not suited to work like this, you'll hurt yourself."

Midii was beginning to feel insulted. There might be some truth to what he said but that had never stopped her before; and here he was stating her capabilities based on her physical appearance like it was mathematical law! How dare he tell her she couldn't do something she knew darned well she could. To prove him wrong she pointedly picked up the sledgehammer and got back to work.

She was allowed to land a few blows before her hammer caught on something in mid air. She tugged and it didn't budge. She pulled again and it still didn't move an inch. Finally she turned around to see what the problem was and he was holding the heavy metal sledgehammer in midair with only one hand. It took her two hands just to lift the thing, and she relied mostly on centrifugal force to get it high enough in the air to make a good strike on the pike. His face was as stoic as it ever was but Midii could have sworn there was an aura of smugness about him that didn't show. She could sense it. That smug little bastard.

"Let go," she gritted.

"No," he replied.

"I have neither the time nor the desire to play around with you dammit, now let go so I can get back to work!" she ordered.

"Work on something that won't possibly cause spinal injury," he replied.

"Me and my spinal injuries are none of your business, now bugger off!" she shot back heatedly. He was really begining to get on her nerves.

"No," he said.

Midii simmered, and glared to no effect. Funny, most people who saw her fixing them with that gimlet look she had perfected would have been checking their insurance policies to see if their funerals were covered. he looked spectacularly unaffected by it. That only made her temper worse. Her hands clenched and she was about half a heartbeat from losing her temper and belting him one across the jaw. With an effort worthy of a saint she held onto the last ragged edge of her cool and said with barely contained anger

"Look you, I don't have time for this. Let go dammit." Her voice was that sort of deadly growl a predator makes when an unwanted interloper is tromping around in their territory uninvited and making an nuisance of itself.

"Why are you angry?" he questioned. He didn't sound confused, (that would have bordered on having an emotion and as far as she knew, he still didn't have any) merely mildly curious.

That did it. If he was going to ask a question after he had taken the time to put her in stomping mood, she was going to ram the answer right down his throat.

"You want to know why? I'll tell you why," she said letting go of the hammer and turning to face him full on, keeping her voice low and her tone at growl level to avoid screaming at him and everyone else overhearing. "I have a meeting here tomorrow in which I'm going to try to organize the impossible; and do you know why I need to do what can't be done? Because there's a deadly enemy with twice my number of mobile suits at only half strength gathering within my borders and I can't simply evict them because my own government would as soon see me hanged as they would possibly getting off their fat lazy self-contented asses to actually try to help my people. I have to find a way to smuggle over seven thousand people plus supplies, plus shelters overland, underground, by sea and upriver to an undefended central location without you know who learning about it. Once there I have to get them all organized so that we can begin building shelters and defenses around the city so that we actually stand a chance of not getting over-run just in case you know who does decide to attack. And do you know what else? I have Raiders nibbling away at my forces as well. Raiders that are impossible to entirely wipe out because they travel in individual bands and don't really keep to one main hide-out so you have to hunt them down one by one. Yet another impossible task dumped into the lap of yours truly. Oh and guess what else I get to worry about, you Preventors that's what! I can't be entirely certain you all are anything like what you say you are; if you're in fact another Earth Sphere Alliance Military then I have three forces to try to protect my people against."

"You worked for the Alliance," he pointed out, like it was all her fault.

"Yes I did! Very good. You win the fraggin' stuffed purple monkey doll!" she said, her voice laced with exasperation. Heavens above, why didn't he just let it go already?

"So I know better than anyone else around here the kind of tricks and shenanigans that a well trained and unscrupulous military is capable of. Did it ever once occur to you that maybe I had gotten screwed over by them too! Did that thought ever once cross your mind!"

Nanashi/Trowa just stared at her blankly. She growled

"I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask to be leader of Homeguard, I didn't ask for the Raiders or Sacred Omega, or for two hundred and twenty seven Havens full of defenseless civilians. I just got stuck with it, and I really don't need assholes like you coming around trying to tell me what to do because I've got enough things to worry about without figuring out a new place to hide what will be left of your body once I'm done with you if you piss me off more than you already have. Now do I make myself absolutely, perfectly, crystal clear about this?"

All of that got an astounding amout of no reaction from him. Geeze! What was with this guy!

Midii shoved the handle of the hammer that had started their little tiff at him and threw her hands up in disgust. She stalked off calling over her shoulder

"If you want to pound away, fine, knock yourself out. I've got fifty billion things to do right now anyway."

Midii Une, exit with fanfare, stage left.

Trowa was left in the feild staring after the retreating haunched tense shoulders of Midii Une. What was her problem? It was obvious to him that she was too small and slight to make swinging a heavy sledgehammer around a good idea. He could have just left her there to hurt herself but no, he trys to help and she gets mad at him.

Hn. Maybe she and Lady Une are related after all, they certainly have similar temperments, he thought to himself, picking up the sledgehammer and pounding the tent peg in easily. Really, she would have been here all day if she'd tried to continue working on it alone. She wasn't physically built for this kind of labor. Trowa probably wieghed twice as much as she did in muscle mass alone. Oh look, he had onlookers again. He couldn't imagine why those women were so facinated with watching him work, maybe it was the closest thing they had to entertainment in this place.

Accustomed to the heavy work in the circus, Trowa was finnished in no time at all and barely broke a sweat. As he pounded the last of the pegs into the ground at the appropriate hieght he looked over to see his sister Catherine directing the setting up of the stands.

"Hey Trowa," she called once she noted that he had finished. "Come here for a moment, we've got a request for a small demonstration. This guy throws knives too." Trowa smiled inwardly to himself. Catherine loved her work, and loved any chance to display her prodigious talent to an appcreciative audience.

Trowa dutifully lined himself up in front of the target board and Cathy carefully lined up her shot. She was as perfect as ever (aside of the one time he'd freaked her out into nearly hitting him). All ten knives landed within milimeters of his torso arms and head. A small crowd had gathered and in the end there was a small round of applause. Trowa was not gratified however to hear Midii Une's voice ring out over the rest.

"Cathy, Cathy, Cathy what are you doing!" she sounded exasperated with his sister, but the lttle blonde was grinning. Cathy looked at Midii in inoscent confusion.

"What do you mean?" Cathy asked.

"You keep missing!" she said as if it should be obvious. "Really, you tell me you have this wonderful aim and you keep missing him, he's only ten feet away from you."

"Oh you!" Cathy said smacking her on the shoulder. Midii grinned and gave Cathy a sly look.

"Here, why don't you give me a crack at it? I'll get 'im for ya! It's no trouble at all."

Trowa felt alarmed, for due to their recent row (entirely the fault of her bad mood he was sure) he couldn't be certain she wasn't entirely joking. Midii grinned at Cathy paying no attention to him. Cathy shooed her off, still smiling.

What was with Midii today? In fact the entire time he'd been here she'd barely acknowledged his presence, it was like she was ashamed to know him or something. The only time she'd approach him was if there was no one else around, and even at that it took her nearly five minutes to make up her mind. Then when he speaks to her outside of a professional capacity where others might see she blew up at him. Then she turns around and makes jokes with his sister as if nothing is bothering her. Didn't he matter to her at all?

His poker face remained the same but inwardly he was frowning in her direction. She was asking around for that Bryson idiot again. Apparently the two of them had a bit of a falling out over the Preventors issue and she couldn't find him to kiss and make up. Maybe that was what had her in such a bad mood, she was upset because her lover wasn't helping her keep her bed warm. Well she shouldn't take it out on him.

Obnoxious, he grumbled to himself. He wasn't so certain he was reffering to Midii with that one either, he didn't like her second in command at all. What was so great about that guy that she trusted him so implicitly? For all Trowa could tell, he was a swaggering peacock with a propensity for womanizing and little to no real morals. Was that the kind of person she liked?

On second thought maybe those two deserve each ther, he grumbled to himself, his mood souring further. He's a doormat and she can boss him around as much as she likes. Hmph, bet he enjoys it too. 

Trowa hadn't even really talked with the guy face to face and he already had very intense dislike for him. The fact that Midii paid all kinds of attention and spent all of her time with Bryson and not Trowa was just fuel for the fire.

Why was he even worrying about it? It wasn't his concern what she did with her time or who she spent it with; it was just that Midii was Cathy's friend and he didn't want her setting a bad example.

The two girls made an unusual pair when put beside one another he had to admit... in build they were nearly polar opposites. Catherine was tall, curvy, dark, and feminine; and Midii was small, slight, pale and... dressed like a man. What was that saying about opposites attracting? Trowa was beginning to suspect that it was pure bunk, he wasn't attracted to her. She wasn't his type... not that he actually had a type but if he did, he was pretty sure she wasn't it.

He paused to ruminate on that for a moment, and decided that it wasn't entirely true. Midii wasn't unattractive, in an obsinate stubborn and utterly bolshie kind of way. Her features were fair, and her frame was as slight as a rapier, but she had a kittenish softness to her that was appealing. The softness however was ruined by the steel-like will reflected in her eyes, the aura of command in her carriage and the occasinally scary hot temper he'd just been an unwilling witness to. After all, she wasn't just another pretty face. She had intelligence to match that tenacity that showed through in every line of her body from the set of her thin shoulders to the curve of her spine to the firm strength in her obdurate little chin. She was more like a weed than a flower however, growing back again out of pure willfull intransigence no matter how one thought to pull it out. No gardener had ever tended to her with care and mercy that was for sure; perhaps half of her bad-ass attitude was simple defiance.

Maybe that's why these people have so much faith in her, she doesn't know anything other than how to keep on in her mulish adamant way until she finally gets whatever it is she wants, he thought.

She wasn't unattractive to him. He even found her looks slightly appealing; but only slightly he assured himself. She was just a little too... a little too... he couldn't put his finger on it, but whatever it was she had a little too much of it. Aside of that, the way he saw it they weren't supposed to get along anyway. If she wanted to get along with someone let her go find someone whom she could bend to her will, Trowa might be an acrobat but his will bent for nobody. Well, maybe Catherine but she was his sister and the only family he had so obviously there was an exception there but she was the only exception. Midii was obviously very accustomed to getting her own way around this place, she said jump and the forces under her command and the Haven's they all protected hauled out the tarpaulin. Perhaps she got her way too much and it had made her even more obstinate. Well, she wasn't getting her way with him, whatever it was she was after she'd only get it if he felt she deserved it. There was no way he was going to conform to be like everyone else around here who treated her like she hung the moon. The thought satisfied him well enough to lighten his mood as he left to feed his lions.

Aw jeeze, why did I say that to him? she thought in remorse as she rechecked the outline for the mirgration in preparation for her meeting that day.

It was stupid of me. I'm trying to make amends with him and I end up blowing up at him over nothing. I'm such an idiot! 

She was an idiot with a lot of stress. Maybe him and everything he brought with him was just the proverbial straw that broke the camels back. There was no real reason why she should suddenly get so angry with him, unless of course she was angry with herself first. She felt remorseful, but her stubborn pride was repulsed by the idea of humbling herself to apologize to him again. She'd tried that and he hadn't seemed amenable to her first attempt so she doubted that he'd welcome a second attempt.

The Coordinators were all gathered, and thoughtfully, they had all brought their own food and sleeping gear so as not to put too great a burden on this Have's already straining resources. The meeting would take place at dusk that night, after the tent the circus was loaning her was finished being built. She wasn't certain she was ready for the meeting. She knew she couldn't possibly have thought of everything herself. The East-West tunnel had several access points above ground, each with a coded blast-door sealing it shut. She had the codes but getting everyone through in a timely manner was going to be tricky; they's all be traveling westward, but the people in sector eight would have farther to travel than the people in sector seven so obviously to keep things running smoothly access to the tunnel would have to be coordinated in waves. That was only one of the many many complications she had come up with and tried to schedule a way to solve. Mostly she'd be relying onthe Coordinators to see a complication in the feilds in react to it and solve it together in a timely manner. She was glad that the Havens were accustomed to working together for the most part already, that should help smooth the way a bit.

She knew she couldn't put this off, and she knew it had to be done... but just the thought of dealing with all of it made her want to retreat to her little cot, pull her scratchy wool blanket over her head, and try to sleep through it.

She sighed and gathered up the enormous map, the backing and the stand she had to go with it so everone could see, then she picked up the plassies she had prepared and the beat-up miniature projector she had found in one of the military raids she'd been on and used many times since. Despite Midii's abhorrance of doing anything remotely resembling the way and actual military was run this was something very like a large scale military opperation; and if it worked, why mess with a good system?

There, she was ready as she was ever likely to be. But where in the hell was Bryson?

Next time on Legacy (a.n. possibly my favorite chapter) Things heat up in this action-packed chapter when the Raiders decide to pay Homeguars and unannounced visit.

_She shoved her feet into her boots and groped blindly for her hairtie. No time for a brush, good thing she usually slept in her uniform!_

_A minute later she was off for her suit at a dead run._

Trowa decides to leap into the fray….

**_"Stay here Cathy," he said decisively rising to exit the shelter._**

****

**_"Trowa?" she questioned, looking up as he headed out. "T-Trowa!" she protested, but he was already gone._**

A battle ensues….

_"Alpha seven; watch your twelve! Bravo two, Bravo four; close in heading two o clock. Echo three I want you to lay in cover fire but not too much remember to conserve your ammunition, we can't affort to replace it now so make every bullet count. Delta nine, delta five, alpha seven flank in on that section from the left."_

_"You can't defend that position, there's too many of them!" SHe definately sounded desperate now._

_ Watch me, he thought. _

_ One last shot, he thought. His system had it targeted. He fired. His own suit shook violently from a heavy impact, there was a moment where he seemed to hang in the air and then another bone-jarring jolt as his suit hit the ground._

And Midii manages to get Trowa really pissed off.


	6. In which a battle is waged

It was late into the night, or more accurately early into the morning when the meeting was finally adjourned and everything settled to everyones satisfaction. The first hour had been spent in convincing everyone that yes it was neccessary to attempt the impossible because the price for inaction in this case might mean being wiped out. That was good, she had anticipated it. The Coordinators of Belterre weren't some milk-soft politicians; they were hardened refugees who had come through the wars with wills of tempered steel and a fine sense of the expedient. They also trusted Midii implicitly because they had experience with her; they knew if she said something they could take it to the bank (not that Belterre had any banks but...). After intitial shock and protest and outcries of it would never work, they settled down and got to the matter of figuring out how to make it work.

The next four hours concentrated soley on the Coordinators; she went over the country roughly by quarters detailing what plans she had come up with on her own and asking for advice from the various sections leaders. It would have been easier, she reflected later if she had only had to deal with one voice from each sector instead of six for each individual Haven, but she hadn't had the time to ask them to elect a Coordinator to represent them and she didn't want to have any bickering thrown into her lap because one of them felt left out. Still, even though discussions about supply lines, man power and equipment lasted long into the night, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. Each of the Haven Coordinators were sensible men and women, if something needed to be done they found a way to do it with the materials they had; they knew their people, they knew their strengths, they knew their capabilities and they worked with them as well as each other. There were alternate suggestions made or arguments that this or that plan couldn't work for whatever reason, but the reasons they gave were solid ones and they worked around thier limitations. If there were two differing opinions on a plan of action, Midii was a little surprised that they appealed to her to settle the matter.

Halfway through the meeting, Midii began to hold out the hope that this might actually work.

After the Havens were as planned and sceduled as they were likely to get, Midii faced her Homeguard and informed them of their part in this migration. There was less discussion and rehashing. Midii gave the orders, they might suggest alternate methods of disposal but for the most part they accepted their orders and the timetable she gave them with a minimum of grumbling.

It was still late into the night and she was feeling utterly wrung out when Midii flopped into her sleeping pallet and faded into darkness.

She was home. The warm wooden siding of the beloved house she had spent the few happy years of her childhood loomed before her. Eagerly she stepped out of the woods and ran up the path to the front door, pushing it in.

"Papa! Papa I'm home!" she called. "Papa? It's me!" The house was silent, not even the stiff wind of the seaside or the crash of the waves on the cliffs many storeis below them filled the silence. Midii looked around her, everything was just as she remembered it; it made an odd sort of sense even though something tried to tug at her. She walked through the greatroom in search of her father. He was probably still in his room and wouldn't he be surprised to see her? She eagrely walked up the stairs and pushed in the door to his room.

On the other side of the door was a windswept plain... a battlefeild. The place where the bombs had fallen on Nanashi's rebel comrades. It was quiet there too, no sound of wind or movement as the smoke driffed like a spectre across the ground. There were mounds that lay too still as she walked by them. Hundreds of sleepers never to wake.

"Papa?" she called. "Papa? Papa where are you?"

A young boy stood by one of the quiet too-still mounds of human-shaped clothing he looked down at the shapeless hill at his feet. Midii drew nearer and recognized that the boy was Nanshi; and she was surprised to see him there.

"Have you seen my father?" she asked him, like she had just invited him over for tea the day before. The young boy stood silent and looked down at the person lying in front of him. Midii bent forward to recognize the body of his former Captain... but he had her fathers face.

The corpse's eyes shot open and his mouth widened into a silent scream. Past his lips came the sound of a siren...

Midii's eyes shot open in surprise and she jolted awake so suddenly she tipped her tiny cot over landing with hard with a grunt on the wooden floor of her tent platform. The warning sirens were going off! Shit! They were under attack.

Of all the bloody... she cursed. She hated that dream; and now this. She shoved her feet into her boots and groped blindly for her hairtie. No time for a brush, good thing she usually slept in her uniform!

A minute later she was off for her suit at a dead run. The storm had finally struck; there was lashing wind and blinding rain and a little lightening thrown in for good measure. Visibility would be zero without instrumentality. Good for mobile suit fighters, bad for ground fighters. Well, that gave them some better than usual odds, a lot of the Homeguard cell leaders who had journeyed there for the meeting had come in their suits; their mobile suits.

Where the hell was Bryson? He should have been there by now! Bugger. She hadn't thought it was that big a deal, well maybe she should have talked things over with him a little more but Midii was the commander and she made the decisions. It was her call to make dammit. If he wanted to sulk let him, he'd just have to miss out on all of the action.

It occured to her that there were a lot of new people there fr that particular evening. Great good gods, this was not an ideal situation. She had roughly twice the normal amount of civilians within this Haven at this time, not many of which knew the standard proceedures for an attack. To her surprise the warning siren was beign taken by all involved with a kind of brisk and unsurprised efficiency. There was no panic; no running about or screaming... the refugees all knew to report to their shelters and their sub-coordinators and the civilians that didn't know where to go or what to do were being taken care of by the ones who did. Well, that shouldn't surprise her; that's just how things were in a Haven, everyone helped everyone if they all wanted to continue to survive. It was no utopia (always perched on the edge of disaster was no ones idea of a perfect way to live) but it was better than it could have been.

She turned to her troops who were climbing in to their suits and turned on her inter-suit com unit.

"Okay, cell leaders from the sectors outside this one I want you to join up with my squads as usual," she said. She probably didn't even need to tell them; with as much as her unit traveled around the countryside getting rid of raiders and running transport patrols she was almost certain that all of the cells had joined up and worked with her group at one point or another.

Her unit had a total of nineteen working suits, and there were seventeen suits brought in by the outside cell leaders, which made thirty six in all. Raiders were accustomed to fighting around seven suits with all of their ground forces; or sometimes her nineteen suits on a patrol run. The most they had ever faced at one time was the combined strength of her nineteen plus the seven suits manned by the Homeguard cell for that sector. She now had ten more suits than even her Homeguard at it's greatest strength had ever had at once to face down just one raiding party. This should be a cake walk.

She had four squads of suits in her units; Alpha, Bravo, Delta and Echo. Each of her squads had five suits except for one; Delta was short by a suit... odd man out and all. It didn't take long for the miscellanious suits to merge into the different squads, four to each team except for Delta which got the extra man to even things out for them. Once the squads had been picked the "new guys" registered in with their feild commander, which was Midii.

"Alpha six, checking in," one of the new team members said after he'd taken his position in the Alpha team. The identification was logged into her computer. The other new team members quickly logged themselves in and it was all accomplished in a mater of moments. Midii gave the order to move out. It was time to do that which they had always done.

When her scout reported back to her about the condition of the enemy however, Midii received a very unpleasant surprise.

Trowa was not amused. He'd been rousted out of bed by the unwelcome and familiar cry of "Enemy attack! Enemy attack!" and then ordered to report to the nearest shelter along with his family. Him, a Gundam Pilot, ordered to report to a safety shelter as if he were some kind of civilian. This wasn't right.

He wanted to be out there fighting and protecting his family, but Catherine looked so scared. He was torn. On one hand she looked so scared and vulnerable with her wide grey eyes flooded with worry as she cowered down on the floor of the shelter, and on the other hand he was an excellent fighter with the will to protect in this case, he could easily turn the tide of this battle even without Heavyarms to aid him. He didn't know if they needed him or not, with all of the extra man-power they had it was unlikely that even he would assure thier victory. He could probably sit this one out. In fact he should probably sit this one out, he knew Catherine hated it when he felt the siren call of battle and answered it by diappearing.

But... there's abattle out there. If those forces fall the enemy will overrun this camp and my family will be in danger, he reasoned, weighing the options. Could he really sit there and do nothing with a clear conscience?

I'll just get a reading of the situation. If it looks like Homeguard has it covered I'll leave it alone and come back, he promised himself and silently to Catherine. But he already half knew that he wouldn't turn his back on the battle anyway.

"Stay here Cathy," he said decisively rising to exit the shelter.

"Trowa?" she questioned, looking up as he headed out. "T-Trowa!" she protested, but he was already gone.

The storm struck him like a physical force the moment he exited the shelter. The wind literally howled across the enclosed fortress and the rain pelted at him with tiny, needle-sized stinging slaps on his skin. Undaunted, he walked calmly toward the entrance gate-tower and climbed up the ladder to the top.

On top of the tower the wind felt even worse, it seemed to lash at him from all directions, and he couldn't seem to keep his eyes open. The two men manning the tower looked surprised to see him appear so suddenly.

"What are the battle conditions like?" Trowa called over the storm since he couldn't see it himself. The man at the top of the tower had infrared and thermal sensor vision veiwers strapped to his head and was taking a reading of the battle grond outside of the Haven.

"Homeguard would normally have the advantage in a situation like this," the watcher replied above the storm. "But the number of Raiders out there isn't normal. There's four or five times the number of raiders than are in even a good-sized Raiding party and they're well armed. She's had to call in for re-enforcements from the nearest Havens in sectors fourteen and nine for some extra ground fighters the even the odds. It's like the Raiders somehow decided to band together suddenly for one all-out attack."

"How well armed are they?" Trowa asked back.

"Suit com with Number One says they have extensive ground combat weapons, mostly ground fighters but they have close to a hundred jeeps with shoulder missile and granade launchers on them. Homeguard is holding them off without difficulty however, enemy weapons are having a difficult time locking onto their targets due to the weather. Number One has come up with a tactic to adapt the situation and terrain to her advantage. I've fought alongside her before, so i know... as a strategist she's top notch even without any formal training."

"How so?" Trowa questioned. It was like one of those Monty Python skits where two people are discussing ordinary matters in a casual way in the middle of an outrageous situation as if nothing was going on around them and they were sitting over a quiet tea.

"Instead of the conditions favoring the Raiders in an attack, the foul weather is actually working against them by making visibility low and interfering with weapons targeting systems. Number One has seen this and has her troops continuously moving, running interference and strike and run manuvers; dart in, hit a vital point, dart back out again."

"They're going to catch on," Trowa felt obliged to point out. He turned his back to the wind and haunched over the tactics display screen the watcher had punched up. There were roughly four hundred visible red dots and a hundred green dots.

"They already have, but Number One has a method to her attacks," the guard reassured him. "The Raiders are being herded away form the Haven and into a ground where the terrain favors the local forces."

"What's the difference in size on the dots?" Trowa asked. The tactics display was far more primative than he was accustomed to using. It didn't give any real differentiation between man and mobile troops.

"The red dots are the enemy," the watcher said. "The clusters of small dots are single fighters grouped together, the larger dots are manned jeeps and the triangles are mobile suit troops. The Raiders have an esimated one hundred jeeps; there will be two men per jeep; one for the driving and the other to man the launcher making two hundred total, then there's another three hundred groundfighters on foot who are already on foot and spreading out. The good news is, they only have ten mobile suits."

"That brings the enemy forces to roughly five hundred give or take if your estimates are correct," Trowa said. "What does Homeguard have?"

"We're in luck. If an attack like this had taken place when this cell was at normal strength, we'd have been overrun easily; but right now we not only have Number One's mobile unit on hand but also the extra suits and pilots who came for that big meeting she had earlier plus the reinforcement ground fighters she called in. So now we have a total of thirty six mobile suits not counting Number One's suit and her XO's suit and a total of seventy-three ground fighters."

"How many of those?"

"The ground fighters in the feild are split into four teams of eighteen by specialty; two teams of eighteen groundfighters eavh, nineteen demolitionists, and eighteen with portable launchers."

Trowa did a very quick calculation of the ratios in the number of fighters and troops involved. About one hundred combination mobile and ground fighters to face down almost four hundred Raiders not counting the hundred extra they had driving their jeeps. They didn't even have half of the fighting strength of the raiders whether or not they had more mobile suits.

Suddenly the guard on the tower cheered and clapped his hands like a sports fan rooting for his favorite team. Trowa looked down at the screen.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Our girl's come though for us again!" he said triumphantly. "She just took one of their Gropo units of seventy-five heads out of commission in one fell swoop!"

Interested in spite of himself, Trowa was forced into asking the obvious next question.

"How?"

"Suit's com says she waited until most of the enemy's walking ground fightershad to move into the ravine near the ledges, and slog through the muck where the river had been before we damed it up then she had half of her demolitionists blow the dam upstream. The force of the water washed them away and took them out of the fight."

"Very neat," Trowa said in grudging approval. Whatever else she was, Midii knew how to use terrain and limited resources to best effect. "And it certainly evens the odds but Homeguard is still outnumbered."

"Yeah," the guard agreed. "And likely outgunned. We need to conserve resources for the migration and that includes missiles and plasma charges. We don't know how many missiles the Raiders have stocked up for a fight like this and if their targeting sensors come on line, we're in trouble."

That decided him (as if his mind wasn't half made up already). Trowa climbed down from the tower and made for the lone suit left standing in the courtyard when all the others had left. He wasn't sure why it was left standing as the first thing he did after a cursory examination upon climbing into the cockpit was to run a diagnostic which stated that everything was in working order; mechanics were green, munitions were green, defensive armor was green, tactic display and communications were green, everything checked out. Shrugging, Trowa tromped out of the Haven to meet the battle.

This was more his kind of fight... he was good in space battles, but he had to admit he was better and more comfortable with fighting on land. Heavyarms had not been a suit that was suited (no pun intended) for battle in space; it was a heavy- grounded graceless affair meant to brace itself for deployment of a lot of firepower as opposed to the suits Sandrock and Deathscythe which had been created for close battles. Wing had done both, but Trowa felt plasma weapons were for wussies.

In a matter of moments despite the suits inability to launch into the air for faster travel, the battlefeild loomed before him. Trowa switched on the com to monitor little Midii's strategies.

"Alpha seven; watch your twelve! Bravo two, Bravo four; close in heading two o clock. Echo three I want you to lay in cover fire but not too much remember to conserve your ammunition, we can't affort to replace it now so make every bullet count. Delta nine, delta five, alpha seven flank in on that section from the left."

Trowa looked down at his tac screen to see what she was up to. The landformation display showed up first, showing a river in the Northwest with a long ledge curving up from the Haven in the south toward the river to follow alongside it on one side which made the eastern edge of the battlefeild. She had one small section of enemy fighters in their jeeps cut off from the remainder of thier ground forces which had stayed mostly near the river intead of pursuing their goal in the south. The jeeps were the ones that posed the most threat to the mobile troops because they had the heavy munitions, the launchers in the backs of their jeeps.

"Demo team one are you in position?"

"Aye!" crackled a voice over the com, the storm raged in the background of that one so obviously demo team were ground fighters and not mobile suit pilots.

"Deploy charges on my mark," she said. She sounded very commanding and confident and intense when in th middle of a battle.

"Aye," she was readilly acknowledged.

"Gropo team one, are you ready?"

"Aye."

"Launcher team are you in position?"

"Aye!"

"Launcher team, deploy your munitions."

Trowa saw a massive collection of green dots suddenly appear in-between the isolated section of enemy troops and their main forces. The main forces, being only mostly on foot had been making their way slowly behind the jeep forces. The jeep forces with the main munitions had obviously been out in front as shock troops, they had the more powerful weapons with which to take out the mobile suits, plus being in jeeps they were a lot faster than the troops on foot. Yellow dots signified the deployment of misiles at close range and a second later a large section of red dots in the middle of the enemy main enemy forces disappeared from the face of the map.

"Launcher team pull out," Midii instructed. "Fall back to point D and await further instructions. Gropos team one, you're up. Give 'em hell, but watch your ammunition."

The gropos team rushed into the hole created in the defenses of the attacking enemy troops who had been on their way to aid the isolated jeep section that had been cut off from its comrades by the mobile troops of Homeguard. The gropos widened the hole by punching in deep through the enemy lines and then spreading out to the sides. Meanwhile Bravo's two and four had anihilated the forces in the cut off section.

Delta nine, assist Gropo team one with cover fire," Midii instructed. Then after a few minutes of pitched battle on the ground in which the Ground Pounders accounted for a lot of enemy damage the enemy began to gather itself back up and counter attack. Midii then gave the order

"Gropo team one pull back!"

"But Number-" someone protested.

"I said pull back!" she snapped in a tone that said clearly 'don't question me.' A few seconds later she was swiftly obeyed.

"Demo team one, deploy your charges," she ordered. A few seconds later a line of enemies on the eastern edge of the battlefeild alongside the ledge swinging off the river and leading south winked out of existance. The battleground suddenly gave a violent jerk to the left. All enemy forces were suddenly in roust to the west.

"Demo team two your charges are set," it was more of a statement than a guestion from Midii. "Pull out and retreat back behind Bravo five. Bravo five lay in cover."

"Aye!" was the loud staticky answer over the suits com.

The red dots farthest to the west away from the panicked soldiers in the east suddenly switched directions and started rushing southward, trying to bust through the enemy line and reach the Haven...

"Deploy charges! Mark!" Midii called.

The enemy dots heading southward abruptly either disappeared or pulled back; the ones trying to escape to the sides were eliminated when Midii gave the order for Alpha seven, Bravo two, Bravo four and Echo three to pull up beside Bravo five and eliminate enemy forces trying to break through the line (since they were already done mopping up thier section of the enemy). Midii had set up charges to blow up the enemy along that sector if they should decide to move southward.

Midii had the majority of her forces in the west covering the open ground up near the river then swinging out and around to the south with the intention of keeping them trapped between a thick line of mobile suits in the west and southwest for superior firepower and the ledge-face where she had set up token defenses to keep the enemy in line.

"Alpha's one two and three, Bravo's six seven eight and nine, Echoes two four five eight and nine," she spoke to her westward forces covering the open ground. "Advance to the east heading three o clock even. Take out all you can. Alpha four, Alpha six, Bravo four, Bravo one make sure they don't penetrate the eastern ledges. Herd them back to the north where they came from if you can."

The number of forces were now about even, but the Raiders still had a slight numeric advantage. Midii brought in the mobile suit forces she had lined up on the far westward side of the feild to intercept the westerly-running enemy forces. She had them in between a rock and a hard place and in answer to that tactic, some commander on the Raider side had the remaining forces to the east backtrack over their fallen comrades and try to charge at the minimal defenses on the ledge. Midii had set up Alphas four, five, and six plus Bravos one and four along the ledge-side in the east (which the demolitionists had blown to create a bit of a landslide to get the enemy fores to move left in the first place) laying in fire to hold them off but there were significanly less mobile suits in the east than she had covering the open feilds in the west.

"Alpha four down!" came the call over the suits com, followed swiftly by "Alpha six down!"

"Alpha five pull back!" Midii snapped without hesitation. "Bravo one, Bravo three retreive the fallen and pull out to join the main forces."

She'd left her eastern flank too weak. Despite the terrain protection and advantagious positioning for firing offered by the cliff side, five suits hadn't been enough to stand against a concentrated attack by the remaining launchers of the enemy. Midii had all of her troops concentrated on the west and south but if the enemy overwhelmed the eastern ledges they could go up and around to reach the Haven. And the enemy's mobile troops, what few there were, had yet to show themselves.

That decided him. He would do the most good on the eastern cliff. He would be able to hold off the enemy from advancing further easily from a position like that. Trowa advanced up from the south, and was surprised to hear Midii's voice appear on his private com-channel.

"Michael! Glad you could make it!" She sounded harried, and relieved to see him. Or more accurately, relieved to see the suit she obviously recognized.

Oh that explains why the suit was left behind, he thought distantly, most of his mind already concentrating on the battle ahead of him. It must belong to her second in command. 

"Echoes eight and five cover the south flank in the three oclock direction. Delta one, Bravo four and two, Delta nine, Delta five and Alpha seven form up the southern flank and move east. Bravo one and three fall south and join up with the south flank along the cliff side. we'll cut them off at point F."

That's cutting it too close, he thought. Point F was almost within sight of the Haven far to the south. If that line fell through there was no back-up troop aside of the Havens defenses and he didn't think anyone wanted to try to rely on them.

"Gropo team one, Launcher team head over to the west and back up the mobile troops. Converge on Bravo one's position."

"Bryson, I need you to assist Bravo one. I'm putting you in command of the southern flank. Okay?"

Obviously she was expecting a response from her second. Trowa remained silent, heading north and a little to the east, intent upon taking up the position he'd picked for himself. Bravo one was in a key point but Trowa intended to travel farther northward to pick up the position vacated by Alpha five. It was a good position for a one-man defense, right along the cliffside where the enemy troops would converge the thickest.

"Bryson? Bryson where the hell are you going!" Midii demanded. "I said the point where Bravo one is located. Bryson!"

Midii sounded worried. She should be, he was headed straight for the place where all of the enemy troops were converging. If it had really been her little friend inside that suit he'd have probably been in big trouble, but Trowa was a Gundam Pilot.

"Bryson, you read-haired ape! What in the hell are you doing! I know you're a little miffed but this is no time to sulk, we're in the middle of a battle!" Midii cried over the suits com.

Trowa ignored her and completed his journey to his position. The troops hadn't arrived at the A-five position yet but by the time Trowa reached it they should be just about within range. Perfect.

"Bryson, pull back," she yelled with something like desperate panic lacing her voice. Trowa ignored her.

"You can't defend that position, there's too many of them!" SHe definately sounded desperate now.

Watch me, he thought.

Trowa brought targeting and weapons displays up and frowned. Even for a mobile suit this thing didn't have much. In fact, what it did have was almost entirely jury rigged from other scavenged mobile suit parts. It had one beam gatling held in its left arm, a shoulder gatling on its right shoulder and only four homing missiles. The munitions bank said that his firepower was at a third of the strength he was accustomed to working with. There were no vulcans, no micro missiles, and no interceptors, let alone a machine cannon it didn't even have an army knife for close-range combat. This suit was no Heavyarms. In fact, it was a lot more like the leo he'd piloted as a kid in the rebel army; clunky, old and in need of constant repair. The weapons targeting system was off by point five degrees and his munitions had only about twenty rounds each. He was going to have to make every bullet count then. A bit of a challenge to make every bullet count in the middle of a storm with unreliable targeting systems, but nothing he couldn't handle.

"Delta five, Bravo four outta my way," Midii's voice snapped over the com. "Gold leader is going in."

"But number one!--" one of the suits protested in surprise.

"Can it, Delta five," she snapped. "All forces hold position. If anyone moves without my say-so I will personally rip their lungs out once I'm through with my idiot executive officer!"

She can't be serious, Trowa thought as he watched the lone suit she piloted advance to his position.

But she was serious. She was making her way swiftly over to his position with likely every intention of facing down the shreiking horde in what she probably thought was a suicide venture alongside the man she'd just had an argument with a while ago. Of course, she didn't know it was him. She must really care about her friend to want to face down the overwhealming odds stacked against the two suits just because he was going in too. It was brave and noble, but also inconvenient for him. He didn't know if she was any good as a pilot; she hadn't been a fighter back when he knew her, and he hadn't seen her engage the enemy in this battle either. She could be a terrible and clumsy fighter and he'd have to worry about destroying the enemy troops and keeping her out of danger at the same time. What a pain.

"I don't know what's going on inside that thick skull of yours Bryson," Midii said over the private communications between the two suits. "And frankly I don't care. We'll settle everything between us when we get back to the Haven but I just can't let you go out there and get killed stupidly. You're about the only family I have left and if you want to be stupid, then I guess I'll just have to be stupid too because you're too important for me to lose."

Trowa was brought up a bit short by that. For half a heartbeat he wished that she'd known it was Trowa and not her second in command Michael Bryson that was inside the cockpit when she said those words but the foolish half-formed wish was swiftly squelched by his utter concentration on the battle.

The forces were within range now. Trowa brought his shoulder gatling up and adjusted his suits grip on the beam gatling, then opened fire. The front line went down swiftly with his first volley, but they were replaced by more troops. Trowa concentrated his fire on the thickest part of them and gradually his constnt barage was making an impact. The number of disabled jeeps and launchers grew steadily, just as they always had. There were no problems here. Even with the limited amount of ammo it appeared that his natual abilities as a pilot were still more than enough to beat overwhelming odds. Midii joined his side adding her firepower to his for a few seconds and then... she darted forward towards the troops.

Idiot! he thought furiously. The leo she piloted was not suited for close-in combat. He laid in cover fire while she sprayed the nearby area with bullets and then retreated back to the cliff. The hole she'd created was swiftly filled by more ground troops. Trowa kept them at bay by a steady stream of cover fire, then when it looked like one of the launchers might get abrave and make for Midii's suit Trowa launched into his tripple axle spin off the cliffside and landed in front of Midii's suit.

His second round took out only some of the forces on the feild which were quickly congealing into a massive horde, like a plague of rats preparing to overrun the village. But where were those mobile suit troops that the Raiders were supposed to have? Trowa hadn't seen them yet appear on the battlefield. He concentrated on keeping a safe perimeter between the cliff face his back was to and the sea of troops he faced. Midii split her concentration between aiding him and giving orders to her own fighters. They were making progress.

Over on the western edge of the battlefield the defensive troops continued to attack and eat away at thier forces, but unfortunately thy also sustained some losses in fighters. Echo nine, Bravo seven, Alpha two, and Echo two were reported out of commission.

He sprayed another round of shot from his shoulder gatling at the advancing forces and they paused for a moment because every bullet had disabled a fighter of theirs but they quickly regrouped. The jeeps advanced to the fore and soon there were launchers in the air aimed at the cliff where he stood. He only had four homing missiles.

"Bryson, don't worry about the missiles, I'll get them," Midii said clearly over the com. "Just hold the stupid line you've picked out for the two of us!" Sure enough, the missiles started exploding in mid-air as Midii adjusted her aim skyward.

Calmly, as stoic as ever, Trowa moved toward the side for a better firing position. His shoulder gatling had already used up five of its twenty rounds and he'd just barely made a dent in the enemy forces. He started in on his sixth round, every bullet counted. He had to admit that Midii was a fair shot, he hadn't had a missile come close to hitting him.

"Next wave's up!" Midii warned him. "They've pulled in the rest of their jeeps."

So what? he thought. The slope's too sharp for the jeeps to advance, the worst they can do is fire on our position. 

Which they did; heavily and with relish apparently. A few of their missiles breached Midii's defenses but for working with faulty equipment she wasn't doing too badly. She got most of them, and the ones she missed were off-target anyway.

"Oh shit!" she swore.

Oh shit what? he thought in mild annoyance. He was trying to eliminate all of the ground forces here, he didn't need some backwoods fighter overreacting to every little change in the battlefield. Maybe Wufei was right after all... on second thought, the day he started agreeing with that sword-toting Barton-army-joining pilot would be a dark day indeed. Besides, Sally was a good fighter, and Trowa had enjoyed working with Noin; Midii was just too... intense. She was a good tactician but she fought with too much passion to truly be called analytical.

"It looks like the cavalry's here," she said warningly. "Bryson, we'll say you've proved whatever the hell it is you've set out to prove so can we pull back now? I really object to dying stupidly." And then as an afterthought added "You red-haired monkey."

Some pet name, he thought. She sound more like this guy's bossy, bratty younger sister than his lover. 

The mobile suit troops had forded the river from the north and were joining the battle.

"Delta nine, Bravo three, advance to our current position," Midii said. "I want you to assist Bryson and me with cover fire. Gold leader is advancing to point C so I'll be counting on you guys to back us up." Then she switched to the private comunications in the suits.

"Hey Bryson, since you're suddenly such a fraggin' hotshot, why don't you help me take on those mobile suits? We'll see who get's the lioness' share; winner does the losers haven tasks for the week!" she called over the com.

How juvenile, he thought even as he advanced to her position to take on the suits. He didn't really care much for laundry duty anyway.

Fighting with an inferior suit was a bit of an adjustment for him, he hated having to watch his ammo. He looked over at Midii who had charged right into the fray. Obviously there were more than a few adjustments made to her leo suit. Despite it's usual graceless appearance it was manuvering with a speed and agility that was very much at odds with what he knew of its capabilities. It had probably been lightened somehow. She was speeding toward the enemy, whipping out an extendable fighting pike. Both ends were heating up a dull angry red... some kind of heat shortel perhaps? Trowa raised an eyebrow at that... certainly not standard-issue Alliance military equipment.

Trowa at last got within range and hauled up his beam gatling and brought targeting systems on line. Weapons systems and engines only were targeted, naturally. The system was having a hard time locking on to the target, mostly due to interference from the weather so Trowa switched to manual. The first enemy suit was within his sights and he aimed for the shoulder to disarm its main weapon. He opened fire in his usual apathetic manner and watched with mild interest as his first suit fell to its knees and then slumped forward, useless. He looked over to see Midii slice her targeted suit in half with an enormous explosion of orangey-red fire and move on to the next suit even as Trowa targeted his second.

She was keeping pace with him... impressive. But probably not good enough.

Trowa's second suit fell and the other suits, catching onto the surprise attack in their midst, had opened fire on the both of them. They were bth making their respective ways to their third suits when the remaining four opened fire. Trowa finished off his own targeted third suit by shooting upward through the power pack.

"Don't run!" Midii called, chasing after her third suit and spearing it through the chest with the tip of her heat lance. The suit slid off her weapon as she threw it to the side, and she dodged the incomong volley of plasma fire from the remaining suits. Two of the jeeps from the ground forces had pulled up and leapt into the fray by firing off thier missiles. Trowa fired at them expertly to intercept. This suit wouldn't be able to take a blast like his Gundam had been able to. Midii moved onto her next suit.

So it's like that is it? he thought. He makes sure she doesn't get hit and she takes the opportunity to get ahead.

"Come on Bryson hurry up!" Midii said with a wry teasing edge to her voice. She fired off two of her homing missiles at the jeeps with the launchers followed quickly by a third. The first two missiles were intercepted and destroyed by the launch teams on the jeeps but they of course had been unable to move quickly enough to stop the last one from destroying them. Problem solved.

Trowa used one of his own homing missiles to take down his fourth suit by shooting it off at the knees. Attack the foundation and the structure collapses then when the suit was lying helpless on the ground Trowa disables its weapons systems. Midii was right at her fourth suit too however, slicing off both of it's arms in a smooth motion and then crashing her shoulder into it to knock it onto its back before sticking her heat lance into its head.

Four each, two left to go. Trowa targeted the farther away of the two with his shoulder gatling and in a last ditch effort of desperation the suit released twenty-four micro-missiles into the air before Trowa took its weapons off line.

Midii broke off her attack on the last suit to change tactics and blast her way back to Trowa's position with all of the ammo in her suit pointed up at the sky trying to protect him from the missiles homing in on his position. The suit she'd been about to attack turned and attacked her! Trowa swiftly finished off his own suit and targeted the oncoming suit, hoping to reach it before it got to Midii (who was busy trying to blow twenty-four swervy-missiles out of the sky). The attacking suit then released it's own volley of micro-missiles doubling the number in the air. There was no way she'd be able to intercept them all even using both her shoulder gatling and her beam gatling so Trowa brought up his shoulder gatling to assist Midii in interception even as his beam gatling targeted the last mobile suit.

"Bryson!" Midii yelled. "Move!"

One last shot, he thought. His system had it targeted. He fired. His own suit shook violently from a heavy impact, there was a moment where he seemed to hang in the air and then another bone-jarring jolt as his suit hit the ground. It wasn't the impact from a blast however, but from another suit; Midii's suit. He brought up visuals of the outside. It was a glow of yellow as bombs went off around him and siloutted against the glow of fire was a single leo with its beam gatling still up and firing even though it was missing part of a leg and its entire right arm and gatling. She'd protected him from the impact of some micro-missiles by using the suit as a physical sheild.

Midii's suit rocked back as another missile hit it, dead on. Trowa brought up his beam gatling and destroyed the few remaining missiles in the air. There was a moment of silence.

"Bryson? Are you okay?"Midii asked, she sounded a little shaky.

In answer, Trowa righted his suit, then turned to the south and laid into the assembled troops there. He still had another ten rounds of ammunition and seven rounds of plasma charges. That was more than enough to put a large dent in thier forces.

"Bryson? What's with you?" Midii demanded. "This isn't like you, acting all gung-ho hoo-rah! Dammit, answer me!"

He ignored her in favor of taking out another three jeeps and their launchers and a small contingent of ground forces. The numbers of the attackng Raiders had significantly lessened; thier forces should be about even with the forces Gathered by Homeguard and with their mobile suit contingent out of the way Trowa sensed that his victory was imminent. His remaining homing missiles should take out the jeeps but he didn't know if he had enough ammo to finish them all off.

With a stoic mental shrug he kept firing. They'd likely surrender before long anyway.

"Wait a minute," Midii muttered (probably not realizing that his suit was still tuned into her suit) her voice hardening with suspicion. "That isn't how Bryson fights. But I recognize that style of combat..." She trailed off.

"No doubt about it now, Trowa's in that suit."

Took you long enough, he thought. What he wasn't expecting however was the sudden deafening roar amped up through his suits com.

"NANASHI! YOU CLOWN-FACED GREASE SPOT ON THE BACKSIDE OF A CAMEL! WHEN I GET A HOLD OF YOU I'M GOING TO RIP OFF YOUR HEAD, TEAR OPEN YOUR SKULL, AND SCOOP OUT YOUR BRAINS FOR CATFOOD!"

Ow. His ears were ringing. She wasn't done.

"I'm going to tie you to a tree with your own entrails and use your testicles for hacky-sacks! Death's too good for you, you poker-faced moron! As soon as I'm out of this suit I'm going to lodge my boot where the stream don't flow!"

"Calm down," he said mildly.

"I am calm!" she screamed at him, ignoring the fact that her enemies were turning tail and running back where they came from and that they'd just won the battle as the sun was comming up.

"I am also going to personally rip your lungs out! Do you have your brain lodged up your ass! What were you thinking, taking on all of those suits!"

He sighed. She might be an excellent tactician, a passable mobile suit pilot, and a somewhat good leader... but she was so far from being his type they were practically in separate galaxies. How feminine was it to tell someone where to stick it in such explicit terms? She sounded more like a paradeground drill sergeant with the vocabulary of a sailor than a petite young woman who looked like a high wind would knock her over. And as for that catfood thing? No, definitely not feminine.

"I have an interest in the outcome of this battle," he explained calmly. "I have family to protect back in that Haven, so I came to ensure that there was a victory."

"You're only one fighter," Midii groweled. "And you're overstepping yourself. You're using my suit and my weapons, fighting my enemy in my homeland disobeying my orders and all without so much as a by your leave Miss Une!"

"This is no time to become embroiled in a territorrial squabble," he stated. Sheesh, she was being very overreactive about it. Maybe she was just disappointed that it was Trowa and not her precious Bryson inside this suit. She could have just said so.

"You endangered the lives of my crew!" She exploded at him.

"If matters had continued without my interference your two ground fighter teams and many of your mobile suit pilots would have been wiped out by the south-eastward push of the land forces and the appearence of their mobile troops. The mobile unit would have come down from the north to take out the suits you had lined up like beads on a string to the east and the missile launch-jeeps would have outnumbered, outgunned, and overwhealmed your south ground-pounder units despite the back-up by the Homeguard mobile suits," he informed her. "The most logical position to take was there at the terrain's weakest point. In a battle where speed and ease of travel is of the essence the only way they would have been able to make a path up and around the bulk of your forces would have been to go along the top of the ledge and-"

"I know that!" she snapped. "Did it also not occur to you that maybe I had a plan for that too? A plan that did not include rushing into the maw of the dragon like some kind of madman and damn near getting me killed trying to save the wrong guy!"

Ouch. So now he was "the wrong guy" eh?

"I didn't ask for your assistance," he replied, beginning to get a little annoyed by her attitude. He aids her and her troops with his fighting abilities and she treats him like some kind of unwanted stray dog that wandered underneath her feet. She had to be the most ungrateful woman he'd ever met! "I would have handled the forces quite well, even with only this suit."

"Well aren't we special? And while we're on the subject, I sure as hell didn't ask for your help either you hypocrite," she shot back. "If you can even call it help. You endangered me and many of my troops with that stunt of yours; you didn't check with the feild commander before engagin gthe enemy, you can't obey orders, you wasted most of Bryson's stockpiled ammo on needless heroics-"

Trowa felt himself actually growing angry as she continued to rant on about all of his supposed faults. That just didn't happen... ever. But she was doing it to him. He felt his face flush and his chest constrict, his hands unconsciously tightened to a crushing grip around the joy-sticks of his suit and every muscle in his body tensed. He, the great unemotional warrior stoic, was actually pissed off. Even if he had known what to say to her ranting list of harsh accusations he couldn't have spoken past the clenching in his jaw.

How dare she! That spoiled, ungrateful, imperious little brat! he thought when he was finnaly able to get a coherent thought past the haze in his mind. Trowa had never been angry before; it was novel experience for him but not a pleasant one. Now he suddenly understood that it did indeed actually cloud the senses. Trowa fought hard for the control and detatchment that had always saw him through every situation no matter how grim. The detatchment was nowhere to be found as his temper had already heated up beyond that point, but the control he could manage.

"It's not called needless heroics Miss Une," he said, actually having to struggle to keep his temper in check. "It's how I fight and it is effective in this situation."

"Next time you want to help, play nicely with the other children and don't act like some god-damned hero," she snapped back at him. "Now take Bryson's suit and head back to the Haven, and since you're the one who damaged it you can see to the repairs yourself!"

Trowa hadn't thought he was capable of getting any angrier than he already was... he was wrong. That last comment had done it. The cheek! Ordering him about as if he was some kind of menial. Dismissing him from the battlefeild like she was the queen of Sheba and on top of that ordering him to fix his mobile suit like he was a naughty boy in need of some punishment to teach him a lesson. He was quite literally struck dumb with anger. There was a loud snapping sound in the cockpit and at first he thought it might have been his temper but he looked down to see the plastic of the console snap in a pattern of fine spiderweb lines beneath his hands.

He stood stock still, trying to bring his breathing under control. Funny, staying in control of his emotions had never been a problem for him. He'd never had to deal with getting angry before and all he could do was simply sit there and try to bring himself under control.What was it about this girl? She could make him go from absolute zero coolness to red-hot in no time flat. Trowa was the stoic who was known for being silent death (as opposed to Duo who was known for being noisy death); he speaks ten words to her and he's ready to strangle her. If Midii had been a man, Trowa would have hauled her out of her suit for a fight and that would have been that; but Midii was a girl, and not only that she was his sister's friend and someone the Preventors was negotiating with at the moment. Hauling her out for a fight was out of the question. So he bent his will to bringing himself under control. At last he reached a point to where he was only nursing a sense of righteous anger and indignation. Oh, he'd go along with her to keep the peace and the negotiations running smoothly, but he wasn't going to give an inch. She might be the queen around here but she held no sway over him, and he'd bet that out of the two of them he was stronger and more stubborn than she was.

He brought up his outside display screens and noted that a general clean-up was taking place. The whole and healthy members of Homeguard were going through the bodies of the enemy forces checking for survivors and laying out the dead in neat rows. The remains of their equipment was gathered up on one side of the feild for inventory later, but the bodies and possessions on the enemies themselves were scupulously left intact. Homeguard might be undereqquipped but apparently they held too much pride to bring themselves to the point of scavenging from the dead. Then again, the Raiders were desperate enough to attack a poor country like this one so they probably didn't have anything worth stealing. The pilots of the fallen suits, the gropo teams, and any survivors among the enemy were given basic medical attention if needed. Apparently Midii had called for that emergency medical back-up she'd arranged earlier for three open backed vehicles carrying twenty-two blue-suited members of Homeguard quickly came up from the south. There was no hesitation as they spread out and went to assist the greivous cases first. Trowa felt something nag at him for a moment but didn't concentrate on it; he was still too pissed.

It looks like they have everything under control here, he thought, turning his suit southward. He should go check on Cathy, she was probably worried sick about him after hearing that the medical troops had been sent out.

Next time on Legacy: In which it's Midii's turn to get pissed off….

_Stupid Trowa and his stupid recklessness, she steamed. If she hadn't thought he was Bryson and went to face insanely stiff odds in order to protect him and as a consequence taken on the hits of ten micro missiles her suit would still be working! That jerk. Then again, she might still have faced those odds in order to protect him even if she'd known who he was._

And then she gets dealt a crushing blow…

_Midii__ stood there silently refusing to let the tears fall, but in the end... she just blamed it on the rain._


	7. In which wounds are opened

Good, he's leaving, she thought as she looked at her suits display screen and it showed that tall, dark, pain in the ass turning his suit around and heading back like she'd told him to ten minutes ago. She tried to make herself a bit more comfortable in her cock pit because she was going to be there for a while. First the medical unit had to check all of the wounded over and treat them. Then they'd begin organizing the burial pyres for the Raiders; for a wonder none of their own people had been killed or she would have heard about it. They might possibly be fatally wounded, but they weren't dead yet.

"Hey Number One," a voice she couldn't place right then in her exhausted state that filled her body and mind as the adrenaline of a battle receded crackled over her suits com. "Are you still in there?"

"Yes," she replied tiredly. "I'm okay, I'm just going to get some shut-eye while you guys finish up here."

"Roger that," he said in a tone that clearly said 'hey, you're the boss.' Midii smiled a little and moved her good arm to massage tired eyes.

Midii squirmed and considered unbuckling her restraining straps; her side was killing her! Well, not really, but it sure did hurt a lot. When she'd leapt in front of Bryson, er, Trowa's suit to save him from the blast of those missiles it had seriously damaged her cockpit and she'd sustained some physical injuries; a minor electical burn and a few cuts from flying shrapnel but it wasn't anything life-threatening. She had a nick along her left cheek that the blood was already drying over, a small electrical burn along her forearm from when she hadn't moved her arm fast enough, but what hurt the worst was the two small shards of metal embedded in the flesh on the outside of her shoulder and her second lowest rib. She might need stitches for those ones once she get them removed from her flesh, but she wasn't bleeding to death so she could afford to wait until her men had been seen to. She hadn't entirely been joking when she'd told Cathy that her life was meant to serve. Her Homeguard was her first prioity, they had to eat before she ate, drink before she drank and have shelter before she sought her own bed. That was just good command right?

Her suit wasn't going anywhere under its own power that was for sure! Stupid Trowa and his stupid recklessness, she steamed. If she hadn't thought he was Bryson and went to face insanely stiff odds in order to protect him and as a consequence taken on the hits of ten micro missiles her suit would still be working! That jerk. Then again, she might still have faced those odds in order to protect him even if she'd known who he was. Cathy would have been sad if she'd brought her only adopted brother home in a pine box, yeah, that was it. Cathy had mentioned the guy being some kind of important war hero, not that Midii would know anything about that since news of the outside world almost never reached the interior of her tiny little country. Famous war hero or not, it didn't change the fact that he was a jerk.

He'd stolen her brother's suit and intruded in the middle of her battle without even checking with her to see if it was okay and when she tries to get him to help out with her strategy he ignores her orders without even a grunt of acknowlegement to charge straight into the middle of enemy troops like some kind of action hero. Granted, his skills were even more impressive now that they had been when he'd been a small boy, but he had wasted most of the ammunition that she and Bryson had carefully stockpiled, scrimped and saved. Ammunition was a precious and rare resource these days, and getting even harder to aqquire as time went by; she generally liked to wait and strategize a way to fight a battle using the most expendable resources first (such as the home-made launchers and explosives) before she started throwing all of her expensive bullets at the enemy. But would he listen to her? Of course not! He just walzed onto her battlefeild in her country like he owned the damned suit and busted out like he was some kind of action commando, one man army unit! That jerk.

Now look at my suit! she bemoaned to herself. She'd never be able to get it repaired in time for the big migration which meant that she'd have to make alternate arrangements. She momentarily entertained the idea of asking Cathy for a ride in her trailer; nice comfy seats... a real bed (she hadn't slept in a real bed in... it had probably been years). Then she remembered that Cathy now shared her trailer with her adopted younger brother; Midii tried to picture herself being cooped up for five days almost alone with him but only came up with images that had them trying to kill each other, with her always as the victor of course.

She checked the display screen in her suit and ran a diagnostic. The damage was extensive. Her ballast system was shot, a third of the electrical wiring in the cock-pit would have to be replaced, her weapons were off line, her main driver system was unresponsive, she was completely missing the lower portion of her left leg, and the armor plating had melted off in some places.

She could already hear the voice of her mechanic and she knew precisely what his verdict would be... after he got through swearing that is. He'd tell her that the suit was scrap; and if she asked him if they could replace the leg and such with parts from other scrap suits they kept around for that purpose he'd say the leg could be replaced easily but the ballast system... they'd have to completely disassemble the suit and reassemble it with the system scavenged from another mobile suit and that they'd be lucky if it was the same make and model as this one. Damn! After all of her battles in it, Midii had sort of grown attatched to the suit too. Stupid Trowa. Bryson would never have put her in danger like that; of course Bryson would have known she'd follow him and so he wouldn't have put himself in danger like that.

Micheal... she thought, thinking back on the last discussuion she'd had with him, just outside the tent with a Preventors meeting going on outside. He'd been pretty adamant about her not giving away any of the numbers they had on Sacred Omega. He'd still felt that that terrorist group was the one they should be negotiating with. He'd stormed off in a huff and she'd thought at the time that he'd cool off in a few hours and come back and they'd talk it out. But he hadn't come back. She'd searched all over the Haven for him but she couldn't find him and nobody had seen him at all that evening. Since his suit was still there she figured that he'd just gone out for a walk to cool down and he'd be back in the morning and she could make up to him then. But he hadn't been back when she woke the day after their fight. She's asked around again but no one had seen him. He hadn't even showed up for the big meeting with all of the Coordinators, right when she needed her second the most he wasn't there at her side. This just wasn't like him, disappearing like that.

Where could he be? she wondered worriedly. Maybe he'd he gotten attacked? Or maybe he'd been taken by the encroaching forces after he'd left the safety of the Haven that evening. Maybe he was lying out there dead somewhere and she didn't know it.

When she'd seen his suit appear in battle she'd felt so relieved. She'd thought that despite whatever small matter they quarreled over he'd always be there to back her up when she needed it most. He certainly always had before. He'd always been there and she'd come to rely on him to always be there. Maybe he'd been feeling like she was taking advantage of him and maybe she had been, a little. He was always so cheerful and easy-going about everything that she took it for granted tat anything she asked was okay. He was like her own brother, her family when she so desperately needed a sense of family.

Oh brother, just come back so I can apologize for whatever I did, she thought. Bryson was the closest thing she had to family, they'd been there for each other through thick and thin. He wouldn't just abandon her, she knew that as sure as she knew her own name. Had something happened to him? Was he even now out there somewhere maybe lost and hurt waiting for her to come and look for him?

I'm so tired, she suddenly realized as a yawn ambushed her by surprise. She'd been stressed out for the past few days and then there was that interminable meeting, and she hadn't slept well the night before only to have her restless dreams interrupted by the call to arms. She closed her eyes. Since she was going to be stuck here for a while out on the northernmost edge of the battlefeild she might as well catch up on some sleep. Her people were well trained, they could handle the clean-up without her supervision. She'd start searching for Bryson after she got her people back safe to the Haven. Midii drifted back into an exhausted sleep.

She was home. She could see the beloved and cozy little house she'd spent her happy childhood years in rising in front of her as she stood at the edge of the woods, her favorite scent, the scent of the forest mixed with the air of the nearby sea filled her nostrils. Midii gave a small laugh for joy and rushed eagrely down the path and up to the front porch. Wouldn't her father be surprised and happy to see her now so suddenly. How she had missed them all! The front door wasn't even locked... odd. It swung open without a sound to reveal to her the empty soundless interior of her home. Midii's sense of unease sharpened and grew. There was no sound inside, it was all still.

"Papa?" she called. "Papa? It's me!"

She took the wooden steps leading upstirs two at a time, her feet unconsciously moving to miss the creaking spots on them.

"Papa?" she called again, arriving in front of his door at the top of the steps. "Papa?"

She pushed the door open. Suddenly she was out in the middle of an open feild again. Columns of smoke rose into the air and the wind was chill and bitter with winter and death. She looked around her; smoking scraps of rubble and mobile suit parts still sparked and burned and the ground seemed to still hum from the impact of the blasts. There were many little mounds that lay too still.

"papa, where are you?" Midii called.

In front of her suddenly was a young boy with apathetic green eyes staring down blankly at the lifeless body stretched out beside where he stood. Nanashi.

"Have you seen my father?" she asked him. The young boy made no move to acknowledge her. Midii moved closer to get his attention.

"Hey..." she said, reaching out to tap his shoulder and by accident her eyes brushed over the still form at Nanashi's feet. Instead of the scarred and bearded face of the Captain, Midii saw the face of her beloved father staring up at her with sightless eyes. In horror she looked away only to see her father's face on another of the dead soldiers. She looked around her at all of the sleepers. Dead, dead, dead... and they all wore the face of her father.

Midii's eyes shot open. Bloody hell, twice in one night! Well, actually it was morning now; but still. She was only a little surprised that she woke in her cock-pit, her home away from the Havens. She had lost count of the number of times she'd fallen asleep and woken up in her cock-pit; as a place protected from the cold and storms it was sometimes better than her tent and when she was tired enough she could sleep anywhere. The suddeness of her startling awake jarred the wound on her shoulder and her rib and she sucked some air through her teeth. Ouch, they really hurt. She was tired but she wasn't sure if she wanted to fall back asleep again. Now the jerk was invading her dreams! Why couldn't she have nice happy dreams of her home when she slept? Why were all of her dreams just like her waking life; dreary and filled with war? Was she becoming like him? Was this what Nanashi dreamed about? God she hoped not.

She'd spent all night fighting a tough battle in a storm and right now she'd take any kind of dreams, so long as she'd get some sleep. Even the hard seat of her cock-pit felt soft as she closed her eyes until her men were ready to pick her suit up and carry her back to the Haven.

She was jarred again out of a light dreamless doze by her suit being moved abruptly.

"Hey, what do you fellas think you're doing out there? Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?" she asked, her tone only half joking tiredly.

"You'll sleep better inside Haven defenses Number one," another voice she didn't recognize right off hand replied over her com. Since she didn't have a lot of choice anyway and she was simply to tired to open her cockpit, climb out and make her way to the aven on foot, she allowed them to pick up her suit like so much overly large baggage and carry her away.

Once she arrived and her suit was laid, with some attempt at gentility, out on the ground she had to manually force open her cockpit because the automatic opening mechanism was also shot. The damp dawn hung heavily in the air and the clouds hung overhead like a low ceiling. The storm of the previous night had faded to a dreary grey mizzle; it wasn't quite heavy enough to be a drizzling rain yet it wasn't light enough to be called mist. Great, and it was still cold.

"Hey there girl," a familiar and welcome voice said from behind her when she arrived on the ground. Midii's heart leapt. He was okay! He wasn't dead or dying somewhere without her and he hadn't left her behind for good! Midii whirled and leapt at him, surprised to find tears of releif streaming down her face.

"Michael! You're okay! I was so worried when you didn't come back and no-one knew where you were and I couldn't find you and do you have any idea how much you frightened me-" she babbled in an endless stream while holding him tight. it might have partly been exhaustion that was to blame for the state of her emotions, she just knew she was relieved to have her adopted big brother back that she was bedewing his shoulder with tears.

"Okay, okay..." he said soothingly. "Jeeze I leave you for a day or two and you fall all to peices."

"Shut-up Bryson," she said without heat, giving him a watery smile.

"That's my Midii," he said cheefully. "Now it's off to the med-unit to get those wounds looked at." He held up a hand to forestall a protest. "I know you don't think they're serious and they can wait, but all of the really bad cases have been attended to by now and the medics are just looking at minor wounds. Say, it's not like you to get even minor wounds... what happened?"

Midii gave him the rundown of the battle and the fact that Trowa-the-war-hero had stolen Michael's suit and proceeded to spend most of his ammo and fight recklessly in it.

Her position in Homeguard had gotten them a somewhat private area of the tent in which to talk while Bryson carefully removed the metal from her shoulder and bandaged the wound while Midii told him about the fact that she'd damaged her own suit beyond repair trying to save his life.

"Well you can just take my suit then," he said as if it was no big deal.

"Micke we don't have any extra suits, what will you pilot?" she asked worriedly.

"Actually," he sid, taking a deep breath. "I've decided that I'm done piloting."

Midii stared at him in shock. Michael was always bragging about his skills as a pilot, mostly to women in an attempt to lure them into his sleeping roll for the evening, but there was truth to his wildly exaggerated tales. He was a good pilot and she counted on his abilities and tactical leadership while fighting to get everyone through the battle safely. They were most effective when working together, she'd take one half of the feild, he the other and together they'd get the job done. She'd really missed that in the recent engagement, in her mind the ruthless efficiency of hotshot Trowa Barton in no way made up for Michael's cheerful obsinacy in the feild.

"But Michael-" she protested.

"Don't Midii," he cut her off. "I was going to say this sooner or later so don't think it was anything you said or did. I want out Midii... I just-- I want out."

"Michael?" she said, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Look, you've done great things here girl. Whether it's because of natural talent or just the fact that you're too damned stubborn to ever give up on anything the people of this poor country trust you; people love you and people respect you because you've never once let them down."

"Michael, I don't... I don't understand," she said. "Tell me what I did wrong and I'll fix it."

"That's just it Mids," he said. "You think you can fix everything. You think that if you work hard enough and try hard enough you'll be able to solve everybody's problems. You think you can do it, but you can't."

"That doesn't tell me anything," she said. Her shoulder twinged as her big brother removed the sliver of metal embedded into it. "Why do you want to go?"

"We've been fighting non-stop since... since we were kids, right?"

"Yeah," she said with a weak yet fond smile. "It's always been you and me, we took care of each other like family's supposed to."

"First it was against the Alliance, and then there were all those different factions who were fighting against each other about who got to wash His Excellency Trieze's purple socks... or something. And after that the Raider attacks sprung up, and now we have Sacred Omega and Preventors to worry about."

"Yeah? And? We'll just deal with them like we did everyone else," she said in puzzlement.

"What if I don't want to deal with them?" he replied. "What if I don't want to have to worry about another crazed faction creeping in to wipe us out? What if I don't want to have to guard the borders with my mobile suit?... What if I just want out?"

"You're saying you want to leave me?" Midii asked, hurt and worried. Bryson was all she had in the world, the only person she could sort of call family. They'd been through it all together.

"I'm saying I want a chance at a normal life," he said. "I tried Midii, I really did. I just can't do this anymore."

Midii couldn't repress a sniffle as the tears brimming in her eyes flowed over and slid down her cheeks leaving silver trails behind them. She forced her voice to work past her tightened throat.

"You think I like this mess I'm in?" she asked him. "Do you think I enjoy waking up to go out and fight, facing down fleets of people who want to kill me, then having to deal with all these internal affairs that get sloughed off onto me? Dp you think this is what I want my life to be like? I never asked for any of this. I never wanted this responsibility, but like it or not I got it."

You have it because you deserve it," Bryson said. "You have it because you're strong enough and stubborn enough to rise to the challenge every time and overcome it because you don't give in."

"And neither should you!" she replied. "We've been through so much together; if we can just hang on a little longer-"

"What? What's gonna happen?" he demanded. "Will the situation magically get better? Will the country suddenly turn into a strong stable nation?"

"Not overnight, no," Midii said. "But if everyone all tries together we can make things better than they are. We've done it before, Bryson look how far we've come! There was a time when everyone around us including the two of us was nothing more than part of a long line of starving refugees walking down a road somewhere between nowhere and nowhere with nothing to look forward to but more death and more hunger and more battles. Now look at us, we're organized, we have enough food and fresh water, we're capable of defense--"

"We're barely hanging on!" he negated hotly. "Our so-called forces are barely able to beat back a Raider attack."

"But we did defeat them," she returned fire just as hotly.

"Yeah? For how long? When do we get a break huh? When do we finally get to put down our weapons and rest? And just when do we get to leave these Havens we've built and build a normal life?"

"I don't know Bryson, but if we give in it won't ever happen," she replied quietly.

Bryson sighed.

"That's just how you need to be."

"I can't do this without you," she said softly. "Please don't leave. I've had everyone else in my life leave me behind. I don't think I could stand it if you left too."

"Yeah Midii, you could... you can; because you have to."

She knew it would do no good to argue with him. He'd made up his mind and Midii couldn't say in all honesty that her brother hadn't earned a chance at a normal life. He'd been through everything she had been through. They'd been through battles, invasions, taking up the cause after the old commander dies and building up Homeguard from a small resistance cell to a country-wide organization with munitions and suits. He'd been through it when they'd agreed to take on defending the refugees building themselves a shelter to hide behind and wait until the war finally ended. He'd been through it all with her; the late-night planning sessions, the frustrations with the Provisional Government, the harvest, the attacks, the counter-attacks... it was a lot to try to live through. She bent her head... accepting it. He had earned the right to try to find some happiness. She couldn't hold him back through any selfish desire of hers, that wasn't what family was about.

"Alright Micke, she said. "When do you leave? I'll want to say goodbye and good-luck you know."

"Now," he said. "I was just waiting around for you to come back."

"So soon?" she said, a little desperately. Midii didn't know if she was ready to let her only family go so suddenly.

At least I get to say good-bye, she tried to console herself. I didn't even get to say good-bye then. 

"I think it would be best if it were done this soon; make the break quick and clean."

It sounds like a mercy killing, she thought. Feels like one too. Then why was she not dead?

"Okay," she said softly. "I assume you're all packed and ready to go then."

"Yeah," he said.

"I'll meet you at the gate in a few minutes then to say good-bye... I just... need a minute," she said.

"Sure," he said.

Midii could only sit there for a few seconds, like someone in the midst of shock. The hurt of her wounds had receded, in fact she didn't feel anything... except the urge to bury her head in the cot's tiny excuse for a pillow to scream and weep. She clenched her teeth while her throat burned and tightened and her eyes stung. She couldn't afford to lose it. If she lost it now people would know she'd been crying when she went out there to see him off and that wasn't right. Midii had stopped believing in sad good-byes a long time ago. A hug and a smile was the best way to send someone away from you; that way in case they never saw you again their last memory of you was a happy one.

With an effort of sheer will Midii pushed herself up off the little cot in the medical tent and tried to straighten her appearance as best she could. She didn't want her best-friend's last memory of her to be one with her looking like something dragged across a bramble patch by the heels. True, she had just been through a battle, but she could make an effort to look presentable. She walked back to her tent in a daze and changed her worn and wrinkled blue coverall (that had been slept in, bled on, and though a midnight battle) for a fresher, clean one. Midii brushed out her hair and carefully twirled it up into a neat and perfect french twist, taking some nearby water from a basin to smooth out the fly aways. She didn't have anything like a mirror so she couldn't have said for certain whether or not she looked okay, but it would have to do. SHe took a deep breath, and then another, then forced her third breath to be shallower before it devolved into a sob. If she started crying she probably wouldn't be able to stop herself. SHe swallowed to clear the lump lodged in her throat, and then swallowed again and again until she felt it ease a little. It wouldn't do for her goodbye to Michael to be in a voice choked with greif now would it? She forced her unwilling muscles into a smile and they stopped as soon as she stopped paying attention. Stubbornly she tried again, it probably looked more like she was wincing in pain she reflected but it was better than nothing.

I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be, she thought. Which was to say that she was not ready at all. But ready or not there she went. She stepped firmly out of her tent and forced herself to stride purposefully over to the gate. SHe could do this. She could do this... She had to do this. She carefully controlled her breathing and forced herself to smile. Bryson was waiting there at the gate with his single travel bag at his feet.

"All set?" she asked as she reached him.

"Yep," he said.

"Where are you going?" she asked. "I could send-"

"No. I don't think I'll need an escort," he said. "I know it's more dangerous out there but we both know you and I are exprets at slipping behind enemy lines. I'll be fine."

"I know-- I know you will," she said. She swallowed and sent him a weak, tight smile. "DOn't forget to send me a postcard. I want to see all the exciting new places you go since I can't go to them with you."

"You know I'm not good at writing letters Midii," he said a little mebarrasedly.

"Well, you'd better get good. I'm not just one of your Haven girls you can leave behind you know; I'm your family and if I don't hear from you in two months I'm going to come looking for you to make sure you're alright," she said feircely.

"I believe you'd tear the entire Earth Sphere apart stone by stone to find me," he said. "Don't worry. I'll write you as soon as I get where I'm going so you won't come after me. I don't think I would live through you in one of your frantic states."

"I'm never frantic, stupid," she said. "You just take care of yourself."

Bryson pulled her into a tight hug and Midii held on just as tight. She didn't want to let him go but she had to. SHe didn't want to see him walk away, but she had to. She could be that strong for him, because she had to. At last they separated. Bryson put space between them purposefully and said

"It's time to go Mids. Time to part ways."

"May god stand between you and all harm in all of the empty places where you must walk," she quoted. "It's an old blessing."

"Well with my reputation for hedonism, I guess I could use all the blessings I can get," Bryson said with his trademark roguish grin. Midii forced herself to smile back.

Bryson turned and slung his bag onto his shoulder, then walked out of the Haven gate, never once looking back. Midii watched him until she couldn't see him anymore and then just stood there in the cool air of morning as the heavy mist curled around her and the first few droplets of true rain pelted at the already soaked ground. Midii stood there silently refusing to let the tears fall, but in the end... she just blamed it on the rain.

_And they tell me I'll be fine, that it will all get better_

_Just try to write it down, or put it in a letter._

_But the words won't play_

_Cause there's easy way to say….goodbye. Goodbye._

_Keep my head on straight and don't look down._

_When All I've pushed away, I'm loosing ground._

_But they tell me I'll be fine_

_That it will all get better…_

_And from the sidelines watch me fall down…_

_And I don't understand the things I do._

_But I'll probably be fine as long as I keep moving_

_I'll try to write it down, so things can keep improving_

_But the words won't play_

_Cause there's no easy way to say_

_Good bye…_

The lyrics belong to Natalie Imbruglia from the album "White Lilies Island."

Next time on Legacy: In which our two heroes have yet another not-argument….

_"Is that all you came to say?" he inquired softly._

_"What else would I have to say?" she asked. She sounded genuinely curious, like she hadn't the first clue._

_"An apology for that 'grease-spot on the backside of a camel' comment for a start," he replied darkly._

_"You earned it," she said, not sounding the least bit sorry._

_"I think you're mistaken," he said tightly._

And matters start rapidly coming to a head…

_ I can only conclude that I'm paying off karma at a vastly accelerated rate, Midii thought to herself as she tried to act as a sort of failed and desperate traffic cop to the general rushing about of the population. _

_Trowa__ cursed his ill-luck and his sister's naive bravery; Catherine had seen the Raiders making for the large rig that held the parts to the circus tent and miscellaneous apparatus for the shows and had gone out to try and stop them. Trowa, of course, had rushed out after her to try to protect her. _


	8. In which things fall apart

Trowa was perched on the removable scaffolding used to make repairs to the upper levels of mobiles suits; he was making the minute delicate adjustments needed to recalibrate and align a weapons system. It was careless and sloppy of them to let the targeting system on this suit get so badly off. Okay, well it wasn't all that bad but Trowa was a little sensitive when it came to the weapons system on a suit. After all, his scientist had been the weapons expert; and really what else was a mobile suit for other than to be a weapon. It didn't make sense to have the suit kept in repair and then allow its main function to slide into uselessness.

His temper was still simmering below the surface but he had it under control now.

He saw Midii Une walking slowly over to where the mechanics had huddled around one of the leo suits brought back from the battle. He kept an ear half cocked mainly out of habit than any real curiosity as he continued making the minor adjustments to the gatling on the right shoulder.

"This thing is useless as a mobile suit anymore," Midii said. There was a curiously flat tone to her voice. "You guys can use it for scrap and spare parts."

"But Number one this is your--" one of the mechanics protested.

"It's alright. I've got a replacement. Michael...Bryson...he-he said I could take care of his since he wouldn't be needing it anymore."

"But--" one of the guys said.

"Don't ask. Not just yet," she said dully.

Hn. Boyfriend must have dumped her then. Served her right, if he'd been Bryson he'd have gotten out of there a lot sooner. Especially if she made a habit of giving out a dressing down like she had to him earlier that morning. Trowa wasn't in to verbal abuse.

A few minutes later Trowa heard the hauntingly familiar sound of Midii climbing up the ladder of the scaffolding to the mobile suit but paid her no heed, he was already busy. If she had come to apologize she could wait until he was done.

A little more to the left, he thought, twisting the nob on the targeting recalibrater.

"You can go," she said softly.

Trowa didn't even turn to look at her. That wasn't much of an apology, and who had said he was here because she ordered him to be here? Trowa was here because he was a pilot who hated to leave a suit he had used in less than perfect condition after he was done using it. She was going to have to do better.

"I said you can go," Midii tried again. Trowa didn't turn, didn't look up.

"I heard you," he said quietly. "I'm busy."

Midii didn't say anything, didn't move, she just stood there. Trowa finished the fine adjustments on the latitudinal targeting array for the main gatling and peeked over at her out of the corner of his eye. She was standing there, staring at the suit he was working on.

He'd always thought the term "heart in the eyes" was just a saying; but that glance over at Midii had proven that clichés exist because they are so often true. She stared at the suit with such a look on her face; like someone had run over her cat or told her they had a fatal disease and three months left to live. She looked like she was going to start crying at any minute.

"You're very thorough," Midii said quietly. "I appreciate it."

"I don't like leaving a suit I've piloted in less than good condition," Trowa said, just so she wouldn't get any ideas that he might be putting in the extra work for her or something.

"Bryson would have agreed with you," she said. "He always took good care of his suit."

"The weapons targeting system was off," Trowa felt obliged to point out.

"It was jury-rigged, not off," Midii corrected. "I'm sure you've noticed that the parts don't quite match, that's because the shoulder gatling was canabilized from another make and model suit. Not a lot of spare suit parts lying about you know and certainly none on demand. As ever, we've done the best we could."

"Hn," was all he said as he set the recalibrater up to adjust the latitudinal targeting system. Heh, he was just a much better mechanic than Bryson; even working with parts that were ill-fitting, Trowa wasn't having many difficulties in getting the sights and system to align.

Trowa watched her out of the corner of his eye, pretending to fiddle with one of the knobs. She had stepped closer to the suit, laying one hand on its shoulder. She looked so sad, not that it was any of his concern but it was hard to stay angry at someone who looked like that.

"I'm sure you've heard by now that everyone will be moving to a central location in Sector twenty-nine very soon now," Midii said. "The official announcement will be made later today, but we commence operations the day after tomorrow once all of the coordinators and cell-leaders have gotten back to their respective sectors and told everybody what's what."

"Your point?" he inquired.

"My point is that with the recent attack made on this Haven we have to assume that the Raiders are getting desperate for whatever the hell is is they're after, I can only assume it's you and the others in your caravan, and will be patrolling the traveling route waiting for the chance to strike. It won't be safe for any of you or yours to travel over them unguarded. Right now with everything else going on I can't afford to send a detachment along with your caravan to ensure its safety so I what I am going to do is ask that your people agree to travel with the first wave of settlers to sector twenty-nine and then from there I could send a few suits to escort you to the border."

This sounded like business, not an apology. He'd thought she might be working up to it, but apparently she had dismissed the matter of insulting him and his skills from her mind.

"Is that all you came to say?" he inquired softly.

"What else would I have to say?" she asked. She sounded genuinely curious, like she hadn't the first clue.

"An apology for that 'grease-spot on the backside of a camel' comment for a start," he replied darkly.

"You earned it," she said, not sounding the least bit sorry.

"I think you're mistaken," he said tightly. "I aided your people and wiped out half of their mobile contingent in addition to a large portion of their ground fighters. How is any of this worthy of insult?"

"It's not what you did, but the way you did it," Midii replied as if he were a dense student who had entirely missed the point of the lecture. "You stole a suit without asking permission, you intruded on a battle that was none of your concern--"

"Not true," Trowa argued. "As a member of the Preventors I have carte blanche to investigate intrude and involve myself in any local matter if I feel it has a bearing on a larger case; and I don't have to answer to any local authority. My authority comes from the head of the Preventors who's authority comes straight from the Earth Sphere Unified Nation."

"Your actions, whether you have the authority or not, could very well have endangered my fighters," she said with a touch of heat in her tone. "Not only that, you carelessly spent valuable resources that this country needs and can't easily supply on some vainglorious stunt-"

"It was not a stunt," he replied. This girl had the rare ability to piss him off within one minute of meeting him. That had to be some kind of a record. "I knew precisely what I was doing. And as for your country's resources, it's against the ESUN charter to harbor much less use destructive weapons such as mobile suits and the parts to supply them. That goes against all of the disarmament charters signed by member nations of the council."

"I don't recall signing any charters!" she snapped back. She had entirely too quick a temper.

"Your Provisional Government signed the charters," Trowa replied. "I was perfectly within my rights to confiscate this contraband resource for my own use. As a matter of fact, your people shouldn't even have any of those suits defensive force or not, and I recall reading that your Homeguard has been labeled an outlaw group by your own government."

"Oh be serious!" Midii replied. "Those idiots wouldn't know a terrorist from a hole in the ground. The so-called leaders of our people that comprise the Provisional Government of Belterre barely acknowledge that we exist. I've never once heard of any of them making any inquiry, official or otherwise, into the state of affairs among my people. I've never heard of any of them offering any form of aid whatsoever, even when I go out of my way to notify them of a problem or a trouble spot. They offer no form of defense, they offer no form of supply, they offer no leadership local or national for my people. So could you please tell me how they are supposed to be governing my people! They don't govern! They just sign treaties and make useless proclamations!"

Trowa couldn't argue with that particular statement judging by everything he had heard and read. He had a feeling that the situation in this country had been allowed to devolve so badly that it would likely take the Prime Minister of Foreign Affairs the President o the Council plus his Cabinet and all of the ESUN Advisory Board (all the kings horses and all the kings men basically) to even begin to mend the situation. There was a government that wasn't part of it's people, and a people so desperate for any kind of hope or leadership in any form that it would accept even a half-grown girl with no references and nothing to her name but a whole lot of stubbornness and ingenuity simply because she was doing everything the government was supposed to be doing and...wasn't.

Trowa felt his simmering anger at her cool a little. Clearly she was under a lot of pressure. That didn't excuse her of course but he could understand a little that she must be feeling pretty upset about everything that was going on around her. Now that he looked at her, she did look pretty upset.

"So," he said after a long moment of silence. "Where's the pilot of this suit?"

Suddenly Midii's face crumpled and with a noise that was half-sob and half-cry she darted into the cockpit and snapped the door shut behind her. Had it been something he'd said? Trowa shrugged and went back to his instrument recalibrations, the longitudinal one was a bit tetchy.

"Hey, you in there," he called in after a few minutes. If she was going to take up his cockpit while he was trying to make adjustments the least she could do is be useful.

"Tell me if the gatling is on target or not."

He was greeted by silence. Trowa mentally weighed the benefit he might get from popping open the cockpit manually and hauling her out of there so he could finish up with his task versus the very angry young woman he might be faced with if he tried it. Why did he get stuck with her when she was all emotional?

Then again, I don't recall a time when she wasn't emotional about something, he thought. In that they were complete opposites. He was beginning to think it might just be a woman thing, his sister could get pretty emotional at times too; especially when he left to go out fighting or for his job at the Preventors. Wufei said it was hormones, then again, Wufei thought that just about everything concerning women was a result of their hormones. Midii didn't seem very hormonal to him, but what did he know?

"Are you coming out of there any time soon?" he pursued. He still hadn't had breakfast.

"Go away!" Midii screamed out at him. Despite the hollow sound of her voice sounding like it was coming from the bottom of a well, she clearly sounded upset and weepy. He paused for a moment, uncertain as to how he should continue. If he left her there, she'd probably take up the cockpit all day and he'd never get his work done.

"Are you crying?" he asked, very much afraid of the answer.

"No!" she yelled back at him. Which clearly meant yes. He could tell just by how her voice sounded that she was lying. She was likely curled up in a little ball in the seat weeping all over the controls. Great.

He wasn't very good with emotions; if he tried to get her to talk to him about it and she started crying he already knew that he wouldn't know what to do. Besides, he hated hearing a woman cry, no matter how he disliked the woman in question the weak sound of sobbing had some kind of odd power over him. He'd do anything, literally anything, to make it stop.

Cathy. Catherine would know what to do. Cathy would talk the little commander out from the cockpit he was interested in repairing, they'd probably go do some girl thing involving chocolate and he'd be free to fix the targeting system. He hopped lightly down to the ground and went in search of his sister. He wasn't searching long for she was in the tent platform they'd been assigned, sleeping. Apparently all civilians went back to their beds once they got the all clear from the forces.

I'd forgotten that it was still early morning, Trowa thought vaguely. He was still wide awake from the battle earlier that night. His sleep deprivation tolerance was still higher than most peoples as a result of being a soldier all of his life.

"Hey," he whispered, nudging at the pile of blankets that was his sleeping sister. "Hey wake up."

She grumbled and tried to bat him away.

"That girl is upset about something," Trowa said. He didn't like preliminary conversation; and besides, hearing that a friend of hers was upset would rouse Cath quickly. Catherine to the rescue and all of that.

"Midii's sad?" Catherine said, her eyes opening and blearily tried to focus on him. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure, she's just locked herself into the cockpit of the suit I'm working on and she won't come out," Trowa said, knowing fully well that protective Catherine would rise to the bait. "I think she may be crying," he added for good measure. Sure enough, that did it. Cathy hauled herself out of her sleeping bag, stood and headed out of the tent. Trowa followed a bit behind so that when Cathy finally got rid of her, er, brought the girl somewhere more comfortable to cry her eyes out in peace that is, he could resume the work that she'd interrupted. It was purely by coincidence that he caught the conversation between the two of them.

"Midii? Honey, what's wrong?" Cathy asked worriedly. "Did you get hurt?"

"Yeah but... that's not it," she said. Trowa could barely make out her voice from the inside of the cockpit; not that he was listening.

"What happened?"

"Michael..." and ere it sounded like she was taking a shuddering sob. "He- he's gone."

Aww, Midii..." Cathy said, clearly looking for the opening. Trowa sighed resignedly and climbed up the ladder to show her where the manual switch was, then hopped back down to tighten the bolts on a panel on the leg that he'd noticed were loose, giving the two women the illusion of privacy at least. A few seconds later there was the sound of the door of the cockpit being opened.

"Hey... what's wrong?" Cathy asked in concern.

"Cathy, I can't... I'm not strong enough. I can't do this without him. He's the only kind of family I have left and now he's left me too! Why does everyone I love always leave me?"

"Oh Midii, don't cry," Cathy said. "He'll probably be back before you know it. I know Trowa always comes back."

Cathy! Don't compare me to that idiot! he thought with a vague sense of insult.

"People want to come back to you Cathy," Midii pointed out tearfully. "No one ever comes back to me because they want to. I have too much stuff around me I guess. He said he wanted a normal life and a chance at happiness and we both know he can't get that if he stays with me."

"Now who wouldn't be happy staying with you Midii. You have so much to offer," Cathy said consolingly.

"Like what?" Midii said a little cynically. "A roll-out pallet on whatever god-forsaken corner of the back of nowhere I have to travel to? I can offer tasteless army rations and the promise of life-threatening danger at least once a week. What person in their right mind would stick around for that? Hell, I don't even want to be here! I'd rather be just about anywhere else but where I am and be doing just about anything else but what I'm doing!"

"Then why stick around?" Cathy asked. "You're clearly unhappy here, why stay?"

"Because I have to," Midii said, her tone resigned but clearly not liking it. "Everyone else has given up on these people, I can't bring myself to toss in the towel and give up on them too. It would be like slapping them in the face and telling them that they're all worthless after all. And after everything I've already done and gone through to protect them and give them even what little they have it would be a terrible thing to do."

"But your brother left just now, don't you think people would take offense at that?" Catherine pointed out.

"He's Bryson; nobody can stay mad at him for any length of time. He could make off with the entire budget of the ESUN probably and then all he'd have to do would be to smile at them in that way he has and they'd probably all say "you young rascal" and forgive him. Gods I'm going to miss him..."

"If you want to cry Midii, you can go ahead. There's no one else around but me," Catherine said, neglecting to mention that Trowa was still working on the leg of the suit.

"I don't think I should," Midii replied in a dull toneless voice. She sounded defeated; like life had handed her just one too many rounds and she was down for the count.

"After all," she continued. "How will I keep the respect of my forces, meagre as they are, if they see their commander all dejected and teary-eyed? No one's going to want to obey that and I need to hold it together for their sakes if not my own."

"If you're sure..." Catherine said doubtfully.

"I'm sure, come on, let's go get breakfast." At the sound of their alighting from the platform Trowa thought

"Finally!" he went into the cockpit and checked up on the weapons recalibration system. Still, he couldn't keep the thought of those sad, heart wrenching eyes out of his head for very long as he rechecked the system. Damn her, even when she wasn't interrupting his work, she was still interrupting his work.

Trowa liked working with his hands, he always had. Machines never complained if you were too quiet or never had any expression on your face. They always did precisely the task they had been built for as long as they were kept in good condition. Best off, if he was clearly busy working on a task most people just left him in peace to continue working on it and didn't try to engage him in meaningless conversation about the weather or some such.

"What do you think?" he quietly asked the metal hulk he was repairing. Like his compatriots the other pilots, he too had on occasion talked to his suit like it was more than a collection of armor-plating wires and connectors.

"I've never met someone who was able to make me that angry, not to mention the time it takes her to do it in," he confided rewiring some loose connectors on the shoulder. "Before meeting her, I wasn't aware I was capable of becoming that angry."

The suit didn't reply as Trowa finished the connectors and screwed back on the panel. There was a slight discrepancy with the ballast system on the right arm that needed to be looked into.

"Will you miss your pilot?" he asked it as he accessed the ballast schematics from the cockpit. "Midii certainly seems to miss him and he hasn't been gone for very long. Apparently I'm no kind of substitute for him although I'm definitely a better pilot."

He was still sore about her yelling at him earlier this morning, and he was also sore about her not apologizing about it when she'd come to talk to him later. He could probably blame that one on her being too upset to really think about it, but with the way she'd acted it was like it was all his fault. She was probably just mad at him because he hadn't been her precious Bryson and that irked him a little.

She continued to treat him as if he was just some meaningless casual acquaintance of hers. It was annoying; it was like he didn't mean anything to her, as if he was nothing more important than her best friend's adopted younger brother. The fact that she'd yelled at him for doing what he did best last night by winning the fight for them pissed him off, and the knowledge that if he were Bryson Midii would probably have let it go just because he was alive made it worse.

Midii felt a little better; she still felt like crap but the feeling was no longer so all encompassing. She could at least breathe again (without feeling like she'd start sobbing when she exhaled), and concentrate enough to get started on her work. Really, she was at a point where she couldn't afford a distraction. She had so much she still needed to do. Her mobile unit would be leading the first wave of... refugees? Yes, she supposed they were all back to being refugees again in a way. She had to get that prepared; Coordinator Meitchel was holding a Haven-wide meeting with all of his people to assist in that. All of the other coordinators and cell leader were on their ways back to their respective Havens to get things ready. She imagined that she would be pretty bust within the next few days. In fact, she intended to be very busy within the next few days; too busy to think about the empty-pit feeling in her chest and the sad ache of being abandoned again.

Sacred Omega to the left of me, Preventors to the right... here I am, stuck in the middle with HIM, she thought a little sourly. And then there was this big massive migration giving her a migraine, plus that damned provisional government, plus the recent unprovoked attack by the suddenly banded together and organized Raiders that she couldn't figure out. Her mind screamed "too much!" and the rest of the world seemed to scream "not nearly enough!"

She heard the light and cheerful sound of children's laughter followed by the roar of one of the big jungle cats employed by the circus. The manager had been very nice; he said that since the tent had been set up anyway that he and his people had agreed to present a show free of charge. Midii didn't like taking charity but the looks on the kids faces when they heard the news had been more than enough to get her to cave in cheerfully. Things were going to get serious very quickly; they should have the chance to enjoy a little lighthearted entertainment while they still could.

She was half-tempted to go and see the show for herself but refrained. He was going to be there... She wasn't sure what the hell his problem was precisely, but he'd had some kind of chip on his shoulder all morning.

If anyone has the right to have a chip on their shoulder it's me, she thought a little resentfully. She hadn't asked for his help, and it was mostly his fault that her suit had been damaged too badly to ever be used again. And then the insensitive prig has the gall to not only demand an apology for something entirely his fault, but he wouldn't leave her alone to cry in peace in the only pece of her brother-in-arms that he had left behind with her. Then he went and got Cathy who had nearly seen her crying! She had had to get stitches for the wound on the outside of her shoulder and her rib and they both itched and hurt like the dickens. How had she gotten those wounds? By following Mister-big-bad-war-hero-Trowa right into the middle of the hornets nest and then taking the blast that would have killed or disabled him from all the enemy missiles in order to save his life. Had he thanked her for risking her neck to save his? No. In fact he'd ignored her and continued to fight like some kind of battle automaton. So she'd taken the impact of about twenty micro missiles for him, trashed her favorite mobile suit, gotten shrapnel in her arm and stitches to close the wounds and he was still acting like she was the villain.

Suffice to say Trowa was definitely not on her short list of people she wanted to see right then. In fact she'd probably be happy if she didn't have to see him for the rest of the time he'd be there. If he wanted to resent her for their shared past he could just do it in a place where she didn't have to put up with it; she had other things to worry about. And if he wanted to hold her responsible for it that was his business. And if he never wanted to forgive her for it... she'd just have to learn to live with the fact that...

That I've done something unforgivable, she thought sadly. She'd done something so terrible that the one who's lived through it couldn't forgive her even years after the fact when he was an adult. She was ashamed but she couldn't change it and she didn't have the luxury of pursuing him in her usual stubborn manner until he forgave her. She'd just have to accept it and spend the rest of the time avoiding him. She couldn't imagine that he wanted to see her at all. She'd respect his wishes... she could do that much for him.

We all begin with good intent

When love was raw and young

We believe that we can change ourselves

The past can be undone

But we carry on our backs the burden

Time always reveals

In the lonely light of morning

And the wound that would not heal.

Its the bitter taste of losing everything

That I've held so dear...

I've fallen.

I have sunk so low.

I've messed up.

Better I should know.

So don't come round here,

And tell me I told you so.

Fallen- Sarah McLaughlin

The day had passed by in a blur of organized chaos. The entirety of the Havens was being dismantled piece by piece. The two conveyances allotted to Homeguard were swiftly being filled with the dismantled ground-to-air defense system; the delicate parts were wrapped up in emptied sandbags (which had been emptied because they were going to be refilled and used to make the walls in the new location) and the once sturdy and bristling-with weapons walls around the haven were beginning to look sad and sunken in on themselves. The public facilities such as the sanitizer units, the collapsible showers, the boilers over the fire pits, the medical facilities, and the mess tent were all being taken down and taken apart so that they could be thrown into the fore-rigs leaving that evening with the first contingent. The first wave would use the man-power and leadership supplied by the coordinators (who had likely asked for volunteers) prepare the way for the larger wave arriving in a few days. There was a lot to do, less time to do it in and very very limited resources to do it with.

I can only conclude that I'm paying off karma at a vastly accelerated rate, Midii thought to herself as she tried to act as a sort of failed and desperate traffic cop to the general rushing about of the population.

The civilians, were clearly unhappy about the new arrangements but they all trusted Midii and her judgment well enough to simply pack up their things once again and prepare to move. Space in the traveling conveyances was at a premium so each family had been allotted so much room for personal possessions; necessary items were the priority but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that each of them would find some way to transport what few precious valuables they had retained throughout all of the wars. Midii almost couldn't get over it; over seven thousand people were willing to pack up their few meager belongings and covertly flock to an entirely new location purely on her say-so. She was awed and humbled by the faith they all showed in her. That they trusted her that much...

I know I've always tried to make their defense and protection my first priority but I guess it hadn't really occurred to me that they'd notice it and return the gesture with such a strong show of loyalty, she thought in a little bit of a daze.

It wasn't done without grumbling of course, but the fact remained that it was being done. The civilians were handling the mess with all of the capability and competence that surviving as refugees in a war torn country had instilled in them. They weren't panicking, they weren't rioting or protesting; they just settled their few valuable effects and pared down their gear to the bare essentials and got on with the business of heavy-duty preparations. Even though the place was a veritable hive of activity they were all clearly working together; that was how refugees survived by helping one another in places and times where help was needed.

Things are going so well in fact that I might be able to get the fore-runner caravan, the circus people and the first wave of Homeguard out of the way before sunset, she thought, allowing herself a small optimistic thought. If things were going this well in all of the other Havens, perhaps there was nothing for her to worry about.

She snorted. That would be the day. Oh no, she was fully counting on Murphy's law to rear its ugly head sooner or later.

The attack had come out from nowhere. The supply rigs, the circus rigs and the Homeguard transports that were guarding them all had been making their steady way across the land when the long line of vehicles was suddenly attacked from both sides. Trowa had been half expecting such a venture on the part of the brigands since the caravan had started out on this crazy venture.

Trowa cursed his ill-luck and his sister's naive bravery; Catherine had seen the Raiders making for the large rig that held the parts to the circus tent and miscellaneous apparatus for the shows and had gone out to try and stop them. Trowa, of course, had rushed out after her to try to protect her.

It was dark and cold, and very difficult to detect friend from foe aside of the enormous mobile suits patrolling the line. They provided some light from their suits headlamps but not nearly enough. Trowa disliked his lack of mobile suit ownership right then but Midii had taken the one he had used and repaired earlier since the one she'd owned up until that point had been destroyed in their last encounter with the Raiders.

She hadn't come right out and said that it was mostly his fault that her suit had been scrapped but he could put two and two together and come up with the right number. The impact from the blasts of the missiles fired at them when they'd been fighting the Raiders together in their last battle (the same missiles that she'd knocked him out of harms way to shield him from) was the obvious cause of most of the suit damage. Trowa figured she might possibly be within her right to restrict him to ground fighting although no force she could possibly exert would ever be enough to keep him out of the fight entirely. He could understand that she would want people she trusted, people under her sole command who would follow her orders without question, fighting beside her incase something did happen. He could understand it but that didn't mean he liked it.

Trowa missed having a mobile suit at times. Despite the fact that the Raiders were entirely made up of ground forces now since he and Midii had destroyed their pathetic mobile suit contingent Trowa felt a little ineffectual and entirely too aware of the fact that he was but a single fighter when he was without his mobile suit. That didn't stop him from decimating the enemy f course, but it did make him more cautious, knowing that there was no armor plating between him and the enemies bullets.

The Raiders objective was at least very clear, they wanted to make off with anything ov value in this caravan string. Unfortunately, this string had not only the circus and the merchants that Trowa had originally been traveling with but also a long line of supply transports for the Havens and the Homeguard (which had joined them along the way) making entirely too many targets for his comfort.

Catherine huddled in her darkened trailer while the shouts and sounds of a massive fight raged around her. She was scared but of course she was always scared when someone took her and the circus hostage. It was like she and the other members of the circus walked around with huge signs over their heads that read 'take us hostage!' She was scared, but she was also angry and indignant. How rude! Those Raiders could make a decent living for themselves if they wanted to; they didn't need to turn on their peers and wreck the decent living of everybody else!

There was a loud thump as someone was thrown against the side of her trailer on the outside and Cathy jumped. She hated this, but she was sure that no matter what Trowa would try to keep her safe... usually it was the other way around and she was trying to keep Trowa safe. Midii certainly wasn't happy to have him in her camp that was for sure. Catherine momentarily worried about that; the two of them definitely had something between them. Cathy wasn't sure what it was but her intuitive nature sensed something odd betwixt them. Trowa had been acting strangely. Cathy couldn't quite be certain what precisely was wrong with him but he had been quieter than usual lately, and for a guy like Trowa to be even quieter than normal was really something strange. Oh he wasn't a mute or anything, he had times where he spoke just as much as any other person; the key to Trowa was that he rarely spoke unless he actually had something to say.

That was odd; here she was in the middle of an attack from all sides and all she could think about was what was going on with her brother and her young commander friend. There was something going on though... neither one of them was saying anything to her and it hadn't gotten to the point where Cathy had done any sisterly prying, but from what she'd heard around the Haven (there was no keeping a secret in a Haven) the two of them were at constant loggerheads. Most people thought it had started when Trowa had dared to pilot Midii's second-in-command's mobile suit into a battle and forced her to destroy her own precious suit in order to save his life. Cathy thought it was likely something else. She knew Midii pretty well, and while the girl might on occasion have a quick temper she was also quick to forgive and didn't hold onto her anger for very long. Cathy thought the problem originated with Trowa, and went far deeper than a mere dressing down. Something like that Trowa would likely ignore as inconsequential; he had won his battle, what would the opinion of a fighter less experienced than him matter after the fact?

Trowa was upset about something; Cathy could sense it. Trowa never got upset about anything, not even when he'd been amnesiac and had showed his emotions more readily than when he was his normal stoic self. He had a brooding look about him that had never been there before. Always he'd worn this perfectly calm, emotionless mask, but now there was a definite air of... well if Cathy didn't know any better, she would have called it a...sulk. But that was silly, Trowa never sulked. Trowa would never sulk about something inconsequential either.

I have to admit, it does seem an awful lot like a sulk, Cathy said in perfect honesty with herself. But why would he be sulking over Midii yelling at him? He didn't care about insults, he didn't let the words that other people said to him phase him ever. On occasion he'd let Cathy fuss over how he should take better care of himself but that was just because he knew she needed to fuss every now and again. Trowa had never let someone pick a fight with him, had certainly never instigated one himself and that was because he never let what people said get to him. The only reason she could think of that Trowa might be sulking would be because it was Midii who had insulted him. Cathy had to admit that the girl did on occasion have this way of making an ordinary person feel about three inches tall; she had to wonder what the effect had made on Trowa. Cathy couldn't imagine why he would suddenly decide to start letting people's opinions matter to him.

Unless... Cathy thought a little hopefully. Unless he's sulking because Midii's opinion of him matters to him a little. If that's true, then it means he's finally noticed someone! Well that was an optimistic thought. Trowa doted on Catherine in his own way but that was because he considered her a sister. Maybe her matchmaking ploy had worked and he had noticed and decided that he liked Midii! He was sulking because he thought she didn't like him back. Now this was perfect!

Well what if she doesn't like him back? Catherine thought, suddenly depressed. Midii had never given any indication one way or another that she thought about Trowa. They could both be so damned enclosed; Trowa because his stoicism as a soldier was a life-long habit and Midii because she thought she had to be this tough-as-nails commander all the time. They were always fighting with each other, even if they weren't using words Cathy could sense the air crackling with animosity between the two of them in the few times they had been in the same room together.

Midii was very obviously ignoring him, or trying to. Trowa could be a difficult man to ignore when he exerted himself, and for some reason he was exerting himself to be difficult to ignore. It wasn't that he'd become loud or gregarious suddenly or even that he had become more social; it was more of an aura he projected. Most of the time he kept his presence hidden and low key, downplaying his stature and obvious strength; now instead of masking his aura of Presence he seemed to project it, like he suddenly filled the entire room. Cathy had never really believed the phrase "chick-magnet" but...

And Midii was seemingly oblivious to it all, despite the fact there had been several very obvious offers by a lot of unattached women around the Haven (and quite a few that were attached). Granted, the girl did have a lot on her mind, but Trowa was suddenly hard to miss. Could he be trying to impress her somehow? His skills as a pilot obviously hadn't done the trick.

Trowa, going out of his way to get someone's attention? Cathy thought incredulously. Naaaah. Couldn't be. 

Midii had a lot on her mind and she was always so sad now, but that could easily be attributed to the fact that her only family had left her. Poor thing. Cathy knew how she must be feeling; she'd lost her family at a young age too, while she thought Midii might have been a little bit older when she'd lost hers, the feeling of being abandoned never went away. There was always that longing there, that empty aching hole in her life that never quite seemed to fill because there was never any closure. Midii had found Bryson to fill that hole just as Catherine had found Trowa, but now the young commander was all alone with a heavy burden on her shoulders.

The trailer rocked again from another impact, and Cathy grasped the nearby table for support. Suddenly the trailer was moving! It was moving forward and picking up speed! She could only imagine what some of the others in her string must be thinking right then. There was a sharp swerve to the left and suddenly it felt like they were traveling off roads, the bumps and jolts caused the tiny trailer to rock and bounce side to side as cupboard and cabinet door flew open and objects rained down on her. There was a sharp blow on her head before she could think to protect it and then Catherine knew no more.

Trowa looked over in dismay as a few pf the Raiders slipped past the trains meager perimeter defenses and took control of a few of the supply rigs, and even a string of the trailers belonging to the circus! He tried to fight his way over in that direction to stop them but was caught up in the general melee. Some of the mobile suits tried to intercept or hinder them in some way but were very limited in their options because they could not afford to fire on their own people.

Cathy! he thought, panic jangling along his nerves. It was the only thought occupying his mind. He had come out to try and protect her and he had failed in even that simple objective. He couldn't even protect his family.

The objective had now been changed; he had to reclaim possession of the string of trailers taken by the Raiders and rescue the people inside of it. Trowa cast about for any mode of transportation that was unoccupied but came up with nothing. Everything was being used, and though he might be desperate he was not desperate enough to deprive this poor beleaguered country of one of its few precious modes of transport for a selfish quest of his. He'd just wait until the fighting dies down and steal one of their mobile suits. Midii could at least give him that much.

"No," was the flat reply.

No? What does she mean no? he thought in surprise. he had thought that Midii was Catherine's friend. Then again, with friends like Midii, who needed enemies? Selfish chit.

"Don't look at me like that," Midii snapped. "I didn't say I wasn't going to go after her, i just said that I can't do it right NOW. We're within bare miles of our soon-to-be new Citadel in sector twenty-nine; in fact by my calculations we should already be in sector twenty-nine so that means that we'll likely be there within an hour, two at most. Once we get there we can get everything sorted out."

"We may not have that long," Trowa pointed out, with what he felt was admirable patience. "If the Raiders discover they have unexpected passengers, they may not have the patience or the resources to hold them for ransom. They may just line them all up and kill them so as not to have to deal with them."

"The Raiders, even as defeated as they are, won't do that," Midii argued.

"How can you be certain? They've done several things you haven't expected in the last several days, including forming into one cooperative unit and attacking a single haven en masse."

"I know they won't for the simple fact that the civilians of Belterre are protected from true physical harm and death."

"By what?" he demanded, crossing his arms.

"By the fact that Homeguard has made it widely known that we have perfected the art of revenge. The Raiders can eat away at our defenses but not without losses on their side. We have a tendency to like to hunt them down and ambush their lair with the most unpleasant of surprises; and we can get very nasty and very creative. If true harm comes to our civilians by any of the Raiders, Homeguard will track them down and what we do to them when we find them always ensures that they don't attack for at least a few weeks. It doesn't stop their attacks completely but it does make them cautious about rousing our true anger."

"So you're saying that the attacks on the Havens by the Raiders are nothing more than an inconvenience?" Trowa questioned.

"A wearing one, but yes," Midii replied. "Their attacks are cautious, and they go out of their way to ensure that the civilians remain unharmed. This isn't true in all instances but the ones who make a habit of showing no mercy get shown no mercy, their deaths are quick and decisive. Those Raiders out there know that if they harm those civilians they have with them in any way my vengeance will be as swift and sure as an executioners blade."

"That's still not good enough," said Trowa. "I want to go after my sister, and I want to do it now."

"At least take time to plan your approach," Midii temporized. "My people will be unusually busy building defenses and setting up for the arrival of the rest of the families in a few days or normally I would send some of them off to gather information and report back to me. I'll tell you what, I can do you this much as a favor. I will allow you to invite your war-comrades from the Preventors onto my soil; I will even host them there in the capitol city. The accommodations will not be great but we will make room for them. You may attend to this matter as you see fit to. It's a reasonable compromise and the best that I can give you under the circumstances."

"It's not good enough," he replied. "I need a transport now."

"Do you honestly think that I'm not worried about her?" Midii snapped back at him. "Do you think that I don't want to go and bring her back here where I know she's safe? Cathy is my friend too!"

"Some friend you are," Trowa shot back with unusual intensity. "You're going to abandon her to those highwaymen with guns and who knows what they'll do to her!"

"I'm not abandoning anyone," Midii said, her voice hard and sharp as a diamond shard. Even Trowa was taken a little aback by the sheer venom in her tone. "I never leave anyone behind. I said I would bring her back safe and I will; when the time is right."

"The time is right now as far as I'm concerned," Trowa replied.

"I have well over a thousand people behind me, civilian and Homeguard both; in fact it's probably even over three thousand," she said. "I have to get them all to the Capitol city, get them organized there once we reach it so that they in turn can start laying the groundwork for the several thousand people who will be coming in another two days. We've got a city to comandeer, camps to build, walls to start erecting, and supplies to sort out as only the tip of the ice burg. I am concerned about Cathy, and I promise you that I'll attend to the matter as soon as I possibly can but right now I have a thousand others to attend to. I can't afford the loss of even one more mode of transport. You, on the other hand, have many other resources you can call on, I suggest you do so and stop pestering me with it. My hands are truly effectively tied. As soon as i get the resources freed up to look into tracking the Raiders down for daring to kidnap one of my own I will but I don't have that luxury... do you understand me?"

"Yes," he growled. "I understand perfectly."

"Good, now why don't you see about calling up some of your friends and maybe making a nice fast helicopter search. Oh, and that reminds me, speaking of the Preventors... I need to meet with Lady Une on a matter of utmost urgency as soon as she can. Four days from now would be the earliest I could manage, oculd you pass that along for me?"

Trowa was half tempted to tell her where to stick it, but he knew Midii's current character well enough to know that she didn't say that a matter was urgent unless it really was. With an armed force that was growning stronger by the day and a population fleeing to a stronghold for their lives, it was probably very important.

"Fine," he said shortly. "But don't think that I'm doing this because you asked."

She sighed.

"Whatever," she said flatly, as if he were somehow being unreasonable and she was tired of dealing with him. "I told you that my hands were tied and I meant it. If you choose not to believe me that's your problem."

Trowa just walke away. If he had to say one more word to her, he'd be certain to say something he regretted.

Next time on Legacy: In which Catherine discovers the Raiders true agenda…..

_"Trade me in?" Cathy demanded. "What am I, a car? Why do you want to trade me in? Isn't one hostage as good as another?"_

_"Not in this case girlie," the ruffian negated. "Sacred Omega is willing to pay a lot of money for anyone with any information that will lead them to the mysterious suit, spooky."_

_It won't happen," Cathy said. "She's too important to her people, they'll never hand her over."_

_"It's not up to them, it's up to the girl, and the little chit's always been a sucker for her precious civilians. She'll come to us as soon as she hears one of her little friends are in trouble and nobly exchange her freedom for yours 'cause she's stupid like that."_

Midii finally puts the Provisional Governemt in its place…..

_"Bet you're wondering just who we all are that have suddenly become camped out on your front lawn like some kind of massive __woodstock__ festival. I'll tell you who we are. We are your constituents, you know... the little people. The ones you constantly ignore in favor of doing whatever the hell it is you're doing over here. We're taking over."_

_"You can't do that!" the politician protested._

_"I've got a ninety-round gatling cannon in my weapons array that says otherwise," Midii replied. Her voice and manner was the kind of sanguine that only came with holding all of the cards._

And Trowa makes a decision.

_He knew what he had to do and he was seeing things very clearly. Midii still owed him and it was time he collected on that debt._


	9. In which rescues are run and cities inva

Midii looked over the map of the empty new city that the leading edge of Homeguard had procured for her and sighed. It was still mostly empty; the Belterre Provisional Government had laid in all of the groundwork for a good new city, but nobody had moved in just yet. She was really only interested in one section of the "city", the part nearest the capitol building and its famous lake. Cheney Lake was positioned in the southeast, and in front of it on the western edge stood the capitol building. Flowing out from the capitol building were the six mainstreets that divided up that section of the "city" spaced at even intervals. Obviously the Provies had plans for these main roads to be then sub-divided into smaller streets when the general population moved in but for now it looked like an imense grid of flat, even, paved roads with a lot of large feilds in between them and the occasional building poking up from the ground. Her scouts had reported that the buildings were mostly museums and memorials, interspersed with the occasional park headquarters or official government office building. Fat lot of good it did them.

She had her eye on the even. squared off mainstreets in front of the capitol building, three blocks in length another three in width; at

Twohundred and twenty-seven Havens with three-hundred fifteen heads perhaven not counting the children... she thought trying to wrap her mind around it. Even though she was a mobile suit pilot, numbers had never really come easily for her, that had been more Brysons area of expertise but wasn't there. Midii quickly darted her thought back to the serious business at hand before she could grow melancholy and get distracted.

There are roughly six Havens per sector, thirty three sectors in all. That gives me one hundred ninety eight havens plus another twenty-nine extras that don't fall into the even six. Each block is ten thousand square feet; I can divide each block in half and have one half per sector, that is five thousand feet to fit six Havens. Can I crowd that many in there? Three hundred fifteen people times six Havens that's...a little over eighteen hundred people plus the cell of Homeguard attached to each sector... There's no way I'll be able to do that with only nine city blocks, I'll need at least fifteen. 

She widened the area another block in either direction making it five blocks in length and three blocks in width. She had cause to be glad that the designers had been so very anal retentive. With the mathematical precision that they had measured and laid out their empty streets it made it much easier to do this work. She estimated that everyone should be able to fit, five thousand surare feet divided by six gave each haven a bit over eighthundred feet to fit about three hundred people... it should be fine even with the need for public tents and family tents and fire pits and sanitary facilities and all the rest. Plust the feilds on either side of the capitol building to fit the rest would be more than large enough she hoped. The Coordinators could worry about that bit. She just needed to know where to start building the walls and hoe much of what section of where to mark off for each sector and each Haven to make things fair for everyone.

She mapped it out on her map, dividing each block in half and marking down a sector number for that half when she was done she had one whole city block left! She planted that in the middle and declared it public space. There; done.

The city that they were all about to comandeer came into veiw... well, actually it was night out so the only way they really knew it was there was by the periodic streetlamps lighting up the empty streets. Electicity to light an empty city; what a waste! The provies really couldn't live without their comforts could they?

Comforts? she thought as he mobile suit pulled into the center of the area she had mapped out for herself and she popped opent he cockpit to get a look arouns and stretch from the long journey. I don't know if I'd be comforted by looking out at a lighted ghost town. There's nothing here! Truth to tell, it was a little creepy.

"This place gives me the creeps," Biggs said over the com unit. The other members of the mobile force quickly agreed with him.

"You said it Biggs," Midii agreed after a moment. "But creepy or not, this place has got exactly what we need; open space, roads, sanitized water and the capability to be defended with a few adjustments here and there. Let's get started on unloading the supplies and setting up for the Havens."

"Aye ma'am!" they said in ackowlefgement and she set them out to measuring off half of each block and stringing a line to divide it then she had to call all of the volunteer sub-coordinators for a meeting to give them the general layout, and where each sector was assigned. The Havens could mark off their own territories themselves as long as they were fair to each other, and she would leave the management and set up of each haven to the respective coordinators and sub-coordinators.

Most Havens had taken one hundred of their strongest civilians plus four of their subcoordinators as volunteers so that they could be easily divided up into teams to tackle the different tasks required for set up. All they really needed to know was where their allotted space was and how much of it they got to work with so that they could mark off and get started. Since Midii judged they likely had it far better in hand than she ever would, she left them to it and went to go plan out her walls with her Homeguard. She wasn't there to micromanage anybody; if they said they had it, it was likely to be true. Even as she walked off to call a meeting with Homeguard she heard each of the four sub-coordinators call their individual Haven members for a meeting of who was on first and what was on second.

Her entire Homeguard was gathered on the well-manicured lawn directly in front of the Capitol building, that was where they were making their base of operations and if the Provies didn't like it they could "blow it out they bums." According to her calculations it was going to take approximately twenty-five thousand feet of wall to surround the little section of city that she and her people were currently taking over. She was going to let the lake account for some of the room because it would mean less work, she'd just assign their two pisces model suits to cover that exit. Still, that was a lot of wall to get done in a limited amount of time, with roughly seven hundred fifty pilots to do it with (she needed her support team to continue performing their specialized functions, such as medic, com, and mechanics to integrate the defense systems). She hoped that they'd managed to bring enough sandbags for the job.

She had the mobile suit workers use their suits to start unloading the heavy bulky stuff, such as the weapons cannons for the defense system and the long, heavy metal spikes that would reinforce the walls once they were done unloading they could use their mobile suits to start pounding in the spikes. The rest of the Homeguard was to split into two teams, one team would take shovels and sacks and start filling the sand bags with loose dirt from outside the area they'd chosen, and the other team would start forming a picket line to move the heavy sand bags to the various worksites. Midii had spaced out areas around the perimeter at regular intervals; everyone at these work stations would build the walls in a clock-wise direction so that the teams would have something to work forward to. It brought back memories of when she had helped to build the Havens, but now it was a little more efficient because they used a bit different methods. Using the mobile suits to build vertically and regular workers to haul the bags into place, the work went much faster. When a section of wall was built up as high as it could go, the mobile suit pounded in another metal length of rod into place to add more reinforcement and security.

Wearily she joined one of the picket lines, hauling heavy bags of sand and dirt in a swinging motion from the person on her left to the person on her right. It was exhausting work, and hard on the muscles, so Midii just let herself go numb. And hour or so later the teams switched off and Midii was allowed the reprieve of holding open the bag while one of her Homeguard members shoveled dirt into it. She'd likely spend most of the night doing this. It had been an exhausting day, but it was still just beginning.

And no sleep the night before? Cathy's right, I'm going to work myself to a wraith. 

After three hours of hard labor, Midii was too tired to see straight. She called a halt to the work, told everyone to drop their supplies and hit the sack, the fun could just wait a few hours! She took one look around her before she caught the chain to the cockpit of her suit (which she would just sleep in instead of trying to figure out how to erect a tent when she was that tired). The groundwork had been laid already! The individual Havens had marked off their territory sections with pale stones and each had about three large tents already erected. It varied place to place of course but for the most part it was like an industrious little ant colony, pure organization and efficiency. She was impressed. No wonder everyone here had survived through the wars.

I wonder what the Provies will think when they wake up, look outside their windows and see all of this camped out on their front lawn? she wondered idely as she squirmed a little bit, and tried to ignore her tender aching shoulder and rib. Her eyes closed and she fell into darkness.

Trowa wasn't going to wait around there all night while his enemy and his sister slipped farther and farther away from him. As soon as the rest of the circus stopped and set up camp in the empty middle sector Trowa unlocked one of the transports and fished his prize motorcycle out of it. He had already called in a few favors owed to him. Once he finished tracking the Raiders down he'd call his friends at the Preventors with the coordinates and he'd get whatever back-up and supplies he might need.

The trail wasn't exactly difficult to follow, the rigs that the Raiders had stolen were very heavy, and the ground had been softened by the recent rainfall so the imprints left behind were quite clear. The moon was in its three quarters phase so he had plenty of light to see by, Trowa was just worried that he'd lost too much time in accompanying the rest of Midii's little tea party along to the capitol in sector twenty-nine.

He still couldn't believe that she'd denied his request. Stuff like kidnapping couldn't wait until a better time, especially if it was his sister. Trowa never hesitated, that was for certain. And Cathy was supposed to be Midii's friend! Some friend; "sorry you've been kidnapped by ruthless brigands, could you wait until a better time next time?"

The only thing that slowed Trowa down was the fact that the engine to his bike made noise so he had to stop periodically, cut the engine and listen about him to make certain that he didn't get within earshot of the camp and warn them of his coming. That would not only be bad, but incredibly stupid. He'd never hear the end of it if that ever happened; and if Midii had to come looking for him? Oh, that didn't even bear thinking about!

He wasn't kept waiting overly long fortunately. After two hours of tracking he spied a large warm yellow glow lighting up the face of a ledge behind it. Trowa had long since cut his engine, and stowed it in the woods. He slunk closer to get a better look at the unknown party and verify that they truly were the band he was looking for. A closer look confirmed it, they were definitely Raiders. Beside the campfires, like some kind of odd dragon hoard, was a large pile of parts for the Haven's ground to air defensive system and some other odd bits and ends. Obviously the Raiders planned to sell the parts on the black market; wise of them, systems like that weren't exactly common during this period of disarmament and the parts alone would likely fetch a very good price. Trowa counted seventy-three men in ill-fitting clothing sitting around drinking or gambling, and about fifteen people huddled in a knot down at the bottom of a cliff. He snuck silently closer, sticking to the shadows; the sentinels that had been posted were no match for his skills at silent observation. Sure enough, Cathy's tired and frightened face was among the first he recognized.

That settles that, Trowa thought. He'd hang around for a few minutes to take stock of who they put on sentinel duty and where they were; it would come in useful when he came to take them out later. Once he made his call; within minutes his back-up would arrive, they'd all go in there and clean up then he could take Cathy and get the hell out of this place. Trowa for one had no intentions of even sticking around in this country, he and Cathy could meet up with the other performers on the outside of this nations border he wasn't risking his only family again in the middle of a hotspot like this place had become. Since Midii was so unappreciative of his help, she could just learn to get along without him.

She keeps popping up, he thought in annoyance. Was he really that bothered by her? He wasn't certain what precisely it was about her that caused him to react the way he did. If it had just been a matter of their past together he would have simply forgiven it and gotten on with his life; after all they both did what they had to in order to survive and as a soldier and spy against OZ he really couldn't claim any superior moral or ethical standing. The problem was that Trowa knew himself well enough to know that it wasn't just a matter of their shared past; there was something else going on in his mind and he didn't like not knowing what it was.

She should have dropped everything to help rescue Cathy, but it's understandable why she didn't, he thought with his customary mild detachment. Everything was all logic now. She had at least a thousand other civilians in need of strong leadership and she couldn't spare a transport right that second. The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. 

That didn't mean he agreed with her decision to effectively abandon Cathy to the Raiders however temporarily, but she had been right to point out that his resources to handle the mission were greater and more versatile than hers. It still didn't mean he liked the fact that she had denied his request when she had been right there; it was her fault they had had to be put into that danger in the first place.

He was still pissed at her for insulting his piloting and mobile suit fighting abilities, and he didn't know why he was so affected by what she'd said. Anyone else he would have just shrugged, said think what you want, and walked away. After all, he had won the day by a clear margin and it was difficult to argue with success like that. But Midii was different. She just wasn't...

She wasn't impressed by him.

Trowa was brought up short by that and had to pause to take stock for a few minutes. Was that what this was all about? It couldn't be, there was no way he was that trivial. Trowa didn't care what other people thought about him, as long as he fulfilled his purpose then opinions didn't matter; therefore Midii's opinion of him good or bad didn't matter. That was the end of it.

"And everyone else in this country is just trying to live out their lives in peace!" Trowa heard Cathy's voice raise defiantly above the general murmur of the camp. Trowa turned with a sinking feeling of dismay to see his sister staring down one of the Raiders with her hands on her hips and an indignant glare on her face.

"Why can't you be like everyone else in this poor country and just get along?" she demanded of him. The man, a full head taller than her looked amused at her audacity and gamely replied

"Because these people are just barely surviving. They can hardly keep themselves fed, clothed and sheltered; the government ignores them and instead of taking the initiative and doing something about it they just continue plowing on in their helpless dirt-grubber way. No one will ever get ahead if they never take any risks."

"But what you're doing is wrong!" Cathy argued. "You said yourself that they're just barely managing to survive, why do you have to steal from their own meager resources?"

"You actually think that we're interested in their stupid crops?" the ruffian inquired, looking scornful. "Raiders steal for profit love, not for vegetables."

"Then why do you keep attacking the Havens?" Cathy demanded irately. "There's no profit in it."

"Spooky," the ruffian said cryptically.

Oddly enough there was a little jeering from within the ranks of the Raiders. There were some cries of "it's just a story" and "it doesn't exist" and no-one's ever seen it" from around the fires. The ruffian turned to face his comrades.

"It does exist!" he insisted. "I saw it with me own two eyes, well, I saw something."

There was more jeering. He stood on his feet and shouted back

"It's the truth! That suit is out there and she know's where it is!"

"What suit?" the manager asked, interested for the first time. He was sitting next to Cathy trying to calm her down.

Yeah, what suit? wondered Trowa, his mind automatically flashing to the Gundams. They were the only renegade special suits that he knew of and there had never been any reports of any others. What if Sacred Omega?-

"A few years back this country was firmly under Alliance control," the ruffian said a little condescendingly to Cathy and the rest. Obviously he was enjoying having a "captive audience" ((urgh, bad pun)).

"They had bases set up and manned with weapons, they were running what small government there was; basically the Alliance owned Belterre much the same as it owned every other country in the world and the people her were just a subjugated as they were anywhere else. There was a small resistance faction calling themselves the Homeguard but back in those times it consisted of little more than a few old men in the backs of bars prating and yapping about the good old days."

"Yeah so?" Cathy demanded. "What does this have to do with a suit?"

"Shut up!" he said. then he continued.

"Well that all changed in about AC 193. The resistance faction fell under the leadership of a guy named Antonio Kenly, or the red fox as the Alliance came to know him. Under him the Belterre Resistance began to pick up steam, and fire power, but despite their clever tactics they still didn't have enough strength or power to oust the Alliance from this country for good. Oh they were a nuisance, and a clever one, but the Alliance was prepared to take on some acceptable losses to keep this empty space as their main battleground. Strategic location and all of that."

"Oh, is this where Homeguard came in?"

"The resistance was Homeguard... or at least it became Homeguard under the leadership of that little chit-"

"Hey! She's my friend! Don't talk about Midii that way!" Cathy snapped.

"You're her friend eh? Well..." The ruffian eyed her speculatively. "We've got a use for you then."

"I don't care," Cathy shot back defiantly. "I'm not helping you."

"Doesn't matter. We don't need your cooperation," he replied.

Trowa considered leaping in then and there. That sounded a little too much like a threat to him, and he wasn't about to allow it. The guy's next words caused him to pause

"You won't be harmed, we'll just trade you in for the girl."

"Trade me in?" Cathy demanded. "What am I, a car? Why do you want to trade me in? Isn't one hostage as good as another?"

"Not in this case girlie," the ruffian negated. "Sacred Omega is willing to pay a lot of money for anyone with any information that will lead them to the mysterious suit, spooky."

"You never did explain about the suit, just a lot of useless history," Cathy grumbled.

"Well if you'd have kept quiet I'd have gotten to it," the ruffian snapped back. "As I was saying anyway... The Alliance wasn't about to release its hold on Belterre despite the growing restless population and people joining up with the resistance. Fight as hard as they might, the resistance was still no match for the Alliance's military might; their bases were too well entrenched and guarded to heavily. All that changed suddenly and mysteriously. Overnight there were three bases hit within the same area; weapons and defenses were wiped out, the barracks were destroyed and it was left vulnerable to attack by the resistance. Within a week five more bases were hit, but no-one, not even the Alliance members knew what was destroying the bases."

"Sound's like a children's ghost story," Cathy said skeptically. "How do you know it was a suit if they didn't know what was attacking them?"

"A few of the resistance members scoping out the Alliance bases hoping to catch a glimpse of the renegade suit said they saw the outline of a silver mobile suit with a design like no-one had ever seen before, and it was blinking in and out of existence like some kind of genie teleporting here and there."

The mans comrades started jeering at him again. The guy turned back to his comrades with an angry look and said

"I'm telling you I seen it! It was there, in a great burst of light like some kind of supernova going off it just annihilated everything. None of the other suits could touch it, not even with their beam sabers and any firepower they threw at it got thrown right back at them with the force increased a hundredfold. A silver suit that appeared in a flash of blue lightning and then disappeared after the base was destroyed!"

There was more jeering, calls of "where's your proof" and "you've had too much old man" from the others around the fires.

"So what happened to the suit?" Cathy asked after most of the other Raiders had gone back to their drinks.

"No-one knows," the ruffian replied. "It just stopped attacking after all of the Alliance's bases were destroyed and they pulled out after the resistance got too tough for them to conquer easily. I suppose they must have had bigger fish to fry."

"When was that?" Cathy asked. "What year I mean."

"195 I think," the ruffian said with a shrug. "The important thing is that no-one knows what happened to it. That means that its probably still hidden somewhere, waiting to be found and used; and that girl... the Homeguard girl must know where it is."

Trowa would have shaken his head if he hadn't been undercover. The Raider sounded like some kind of pirate going on about buried treasure. One thing was sure, it wasn't one of the Gundams. There were only five of them that had descended from outer space during operation meteor... AC 193 was two years before operation meteor and there wasn't a silver Gundam.

"Why do you think Midii knows where it is?" Cathy said dubiously.

"Gut instinct," the Raider replied. "She was the faithful second of the red fox, his pet spy as a matter of fact. When he got killed in the line of battle she took over the reigns of power and led the resistance in his place. I think the suit belonged to the old man and when he died there was no-one left to pilot it but he entrusted the secret of the suit to his faithful pet."

"That's a pretty big leap in logic, how do you know that spooky and the resistance are even related?" Cathy pointed out.

Cath, you'd be able to get along with the devil himself if you thought you might be able to change him, Trowa thought. She was having a conversation with her kidnappers. He just hoped it wasn't the beginning of Stockholm Syndrome.

"Spooky destroyed every last Alliance base in Belterre, and after every attack the resistance was there to mop up the mess, of course they have to be working together."

Cathy didn't say anything else about the suit but instead asked

"How are you going to trade me in for Midii, and what about the others?"

"They don't interest me, I'll either kill 'em or let 'em go," said the Raider negligently. "Since we're in the middle of Belterre and Homeguard territory I'd have to bury them or hide the bodies to keep that little bint form coming after me and slaughtering us all wholesale. She does that if ya piss 'er off. They can find the little wench and tell her I want to trade you for her with no tricks."

"Last I checked Homeguard outnumbered you losers by about three to one and didn't you guys just get done fighting each other with heavy losses on your side? Even if you do trade me for her, her people will only come after her," Cathy pointed out.

"Not if we have the right backing they won't," the Raider said smugly.

"What's that mean?" Cathy asked.

Mental note; whenever I need information just send Cathy in to get it, Trowa thought. The Raider was singing like a cage full of canaries and he didn't even know it.

"Sacred Omega's the one what wants her," said the Raider. "Sacred Omega's willing to offer us protection and a fair sum of money in order to get her. We get her, we get paid and we get out of this place. Simple as that."

"It won't happen," Cathy said. "She's too important to her people, they'll never hand her over."

"It's not up to them, it's up to the girl, and the little chit's always been a sucker for her precious civilians. She'll come to us as soon as she hears one of her little friends are in trouble and nobly exchange her freedom for yours cause she's stupid like that."

"She's not stupid!" Cathy snapped. "She's just a better person that you are with more honor that you'll ever have!"

"Honor, idiocy, it's the same thing if you ask me. What's the point in stringing up alongside your friends when you can be out spending your cut and theirs too?"

"You're despicable," Cathy spat.

"yeah yeah..." he yawned. "I'll be despicable with a lot of money and a house in the islands while Sacred Omega's wringing the information they want out of your friend."

The ruffian got up from where he sat talking with Cathy, sauntered over to the rest of the hostages and ordered them to their feet. He gave each of them a note to give to the leader of Homeguard (provided they could track her down) with the information that they had Catherine and they wished to make an exchange of prisoners; her for Cathy. They would wait at such and so coordinates for asuch and so an amount of time and that if Midii wasn't there by then... they'd kill the girl.

The seven circus members captured by accident along with Catherine were set free and told to hurry to where the Homeguard was if they wanted to see their knife-thrower alive and safe in a few days.

At least he didn't shoot them, Trowa thought with a mental shrug. He'd just intercept the manager and the others on their way back, arrange for transport out of the country and then come back for Cathy. The meeting was in a weeks time anyway, he'd have more than enough time.

"Hssst!" Trowa hissed, once the small party of circus members was out of eye and earshot of the Raider camp. He stepped out of the woods and a few of them started in surprise. When they recognized it was him, noises of relief followed but when they would have expressed surprise and delight at seeing him there he motioned that they should keep silent and follow him. Trowa had found a place about a mile away that would make a good place to land a helicopter; the enemy wouldn't hear it from that distance and it could just fly dark.

A half hour later he had them assembled at the spot and called Wufei and Sally who were standing by to come and pick up the seven captives and take them to the spaceport in Demar while he went back for his sister and wrapped up the few loose ends left over. Wufei and Sally acknowledged him and said they'd be in the air in five minutes, and also that Lady Une was coming to meet with the girl in the morning. Trowa told the rest to wait for the rescue that would be along in a while. He walked back into the relative darkness to go and bring his only family away from harm.

Sneaking back up to the perimeter of the camp was as easy as before, easier in fact for many of the sentinels had fallen into a drunken stupor or passed out where they stood. Catherine was unharmed, guarded actually by the ruffian who had conversed with her earlier. Trowa was under no illusions that he was guarding her out of concern for her well-being; the man was the ruthless type and he'd kill her in an instant if it suited his purposes, no, he was merely protecting an investment. Catherine was nothing more to him than collateral for the future. Trowa was working out in his head the best way to infiltrate the camp and quietly get his sister out of harms way when he heard the sound of an aries engine approaching rapidly.

I didn't ask for an aries suit, he thought, puzzled for a moment. It had come up near the eastern perimeter of the camp and set down on top of the ledge that the Raiders were camped beside. Trowa noted the sign of infinity inside the omega symbol... Sacred Omega.

"Do you have her yet?" the person inside the suit demanded. He sounded impatient.

"Not yet, but we will soon!" the ruffian who had been speaking with Cathy earlier said. Trowa recognized a slight edge of desperation in his voice, that of a coward trying to deal with the real power from a position of disadvantge. No doubt the man in the suit heard it as well.

"I grow weary of your incompetence Anderson," the suit said. "You said you would have her the last time we met. The loan of ten mobile suits as a down payment is not cheaply made. You have yet to deliver on your part of the bargain. I hate liars. Do you know what I do to liars?"

"No... not really," Anderson replied with what was very obviously false bravado.

"I get creative," the suit said. "You don't want me to get creative do you?"

"It's not a lie! We're going to have her soon," the Raider said.

"You've said that the last two times we've met and you have yet to produce the prize or any sign of this local myth of yours."

"We have her friend, she'll come to us to get her back. All we have to do is wait."

"Show me," the suit demanded.

Oh...crap, Trowa thought in sudden dread. He pulled back from the perimeter searching for a way, any way to reach his sister before she was brought over to the mobile suit. He had to get her out of there, now, before things got really really ugly.

Too late. Cathy was brought forward and a cable suddenly shot out of the suit and snatched her up. She dangled for a bit while it reeled itself in. The gunports on the suit opened.

"We'll take the girl and arrange our own rendezvous. Now for your reward."

The Raider didn't even have time to turn all the way around much less run before the suit opened fire. It was a massacre. A pure and simple massacre. None of them could attempt to fight back and they were slaughtered like cattle, blood splattered everywhere as the bullets ripped through their flesh gouging out great chunks of their bodies leaving what was left of them to fall limply to the blood-soaked ground like marionettes with their strings cut. Within moments all was still. Catherine was too shocked and horrified to do anything but close her eyes, whimpering and crying. The aries suit took of from its position with its precious cargo secured. It was headed directly east, toward the Sacred Omega stronghold.

Shit, Trowa thought. This had not been his night. He knew why the Raiders had been attacking the borders now, they'd been working for Sacred Omega and trying to find this urban-legend suit of theirs. That didn't help him any; it didn't get his sister back. The only way to get his sister back would be to trade Midii for Catherine. Midii might go along with it... Lady Une was another matter. The Preventors did not negotiate with terrorists. That was the rule. Giving them what they wanted; especially getting someone who was by Preventors definition a civilian involved, was not an option for them. The preventors didn't currently have the firepower necessary to deal with a problem like Sacred Omega.

The only way to get Cathy out of that compound would be to arrange an exchange of prisoners. That meant he'd have to get the girl out of the middle of her people and do it without the knowledge of his superior. Midii for Cathy? It seemed like a fair exchange to him; Catherine couldn't defend herself, Midii had proved herself an able soldier. Cathy would be in constant danger, Midii could probably outwit them. She'd be fine. It would all be fine.

I don't think anyone else would go along with this however, he thought as he relocated his bike and sped off back in the direction of the capitol. Her people would try to stop me, that's for certain. Lady Une would take me off commission if she knew I was even thinking about what I'm going to do. But none of them know what it's like to loose everything; I have to get Cathy safe, that's all that matters now. 

He knew what he had to do and he was seeing things very clearly. Midii still owed him and it was time he collected on that debt.

It was late morning when she awoke in the dim interior of her mobile suit cockpit. She was stiff from sleeping in an unnatural position on a hard surface despite the fact that her body was accustomed to it; and she was sore from the heavy labor she'd put in the night before. it had been quite some time since she'd odne sandbag work and her body wasn't accustomed to it so her muscles were complaining at her every time she moved them the wrong way.

She popped open the door and stepped out to stretch her legs. A lot of the camp was still asleep too; yesterday and last night had been very long for everyone involved so sleeping in was the only way to get any adequate sleep for the tasks that needed to be accomplished that day. Midii noted with some pride that a lot had been accomplished already in the few hours they had been there. Homeguard had twenty-one workplaces where the walls had started going up all around their big haven that would gather all of the other havens. In each of the blocks there were two main tents erected, each on one side of a divider. Around these main tents were the preliminary starters of the fire pits, just as in a real Haven; albeit much more tightly packed together. It was likely going to be a bit of a squeeze but everyone should be able to fit... she hoped.

It was one of those mornings where Midii awoke dreading the rest of the day. This day would be spent by Homeguard getting in a full days work on erecting the sandbag walls and the volunteers would be getting their respective Haven blocks ready to receive the next wave. In the Havens the civilians would be finishing up their packing, dismantling their tents and stowing their gear in preparation for the long trip the next day; many of them would in fact leave that night so as to allow not only for cover, but for a travel route that wouldn't be congested by too many people traveling on it at once. Most of the sectors in the south and east would be traveling up the river in man-made river barges. In the north along the coastline there would be massive rappeling down the cliffsides to a floating dock and from there they would board shallow draft sailing ships that would travel southward to the mouth of the river during the night and then flow upriver to teh north and east during the day. The river that most of the civilians would be traveling upriver on was fed by a spring there in the hills, the very same spring that the Capitol was located facing. Midii would have her Homeguard on hand that evening to assist with the unloading, plus the four coordinators and their hundred volunteers would be there to keep things running smoothly as possible by shouting out "people from this sector are assigned here!" and so forth.

There was a lot of work to be done before then however.

Midii amped up the volume on her suit to "loudspeaker" and pressed the prerecorded button for "wake-up call." The military horns soon echoed through the mostly unbroken stillness with the resounding amplitude of a thunderclap. It was nine in the morning, and they'd all gotten a good eight hours; that was more than enough time and everyone had a lot of work to do. Up and at 'em people. it took a few minutes but the camp slowly started to stir into life, mostly with a lot of black looks and rude comments in her direction.

"What is the meaning of this!" an unfamiliar voice shrieked from behind and far below her. Midii scrambled up onto the shoulder of her suit to peek behind her.

Oh. It's just them, she thought, unimpressed. There was a tall skinny man with an oiled mustache having an apoplectic fit on the steps of the capitol building. At his back were five other politiciany-looking fellows in various states of dress. Those were the leaders of the provisional government of Belterre; they certainly didn't look like much. So they had at last made their appearance, lazy chits.

"Good morning gentlemen, this is your wake-up call," Midii informed them cheerfully.

"Who are you?" the one in front demanded.

"I'm Midii Une, but I'm sure you know me as Number One of Homeguard," she replied. "Bet you're wondering just who we all are that have suddenly become camped out on your front lawn like some kind of massive woodstock festival. I'll tell you who we are. We are your constituents, you know... the little people. The ones you constantly ignore in favor of doing whatever the hell it is you're doing over here. We're taking over."

"You can't do that!" the politician protested.

"I've got a ninety-round gatling cannon in my weapons array that says otherwise," Midii replied. Her voice and manner was the kind of sanguine that only came with holding all of the cards.

"I'll have you arrested for this!" the skinny little politician shouted up at her. "This is treason!"

"It's only treason if I'm overthrowing the established order, but since my order is the established order everywhere else but in this little ghost-town of yours I'd prefer to call this... cementing my authority."

All the rest of the suits and fighters of Homeguard trained what weapons they had on the capitol building and with the seventy plus suits that had come with the first wave that was a lot of massive firepower.

"And as for the arresting part... any time you can find civilian in this country who's willing to take up arms against me, you're welcome to try it."

"The Preventors will hear of this you renegade terrorist!"

Midii didn't reply to this, but of course she didn't have to. The civilian forces of the Havens had gathered to witness this meeting between their protector and the Provisional Government that hadn't been doing the job it was supposed to. When they heard the name calling on the part of the useless pansy Provies they had a few things of their own to say. They didn't throw rotten fruit or anything; why waste food? They did however jeer loudly and tell them where to stick it in so many words. Midii let it go on for a few minutes to get the lesson to sink in... the Provisional Government might be the "official" government to the rest of the world, but they were not the government of the people. That meant that their so called constituents did not have to listen to them and could do whatever the hell they wanted to wherever the hell they wanted to and nothing the provies said or threatened was going to make them obey.

Midii watched with interest as the realization dawned on their faces. Midii couldn't help rubbing it in just a little, after all they deserved some rubbing for all of the times that they had ignored their people and refused aid to the Havens.

"That's right," she said, a little gleefully. The obnoxious look she'd perfected when she was younger was out in full force on her face. "We're tired of being ignored by you. You're supposed to be helping us and you do nothing but while away your time inside these stupid little dream castles of yours. Well it's time you woke up and paid attention. There's a real threat out there and it's a threat to all of us and if you won't do anything about it, then we will."

"But you can't just-"

"We can. And we're going to," she promised him.

The small group of seven men standing on the steps of the capitol building they had built in the middle of an empty capitol for a populace that was too scattered just trying to survive to ever see or appreciate it stared up at the young woman standing on the shoulder of the mobile suit with all the commanding presence of a queen on her throne. They stared and the speculated. Could she be the puppet ruler they needed to unite the people under them? Then they looked around at the forces spread out at her back, and the civilians who just as clearly looked to her for leadership and guidance and decided that whatever else she was capable of, being molded and ruled by them wasn't among them; she was far too strong-willed and likely intelligent to make a good puppet. She would have to be to command the attention and respect of the people in this sad beleaguered country.

"Now that that's taken care of," Midii said, turning back to face her people. "Let's get started on the real work. Havens, you know what you need to do; Homeguard, to the wall!" With that the assembled people snapped into sudden action. Like an army of industrious ants unleashed to build a colony.

The picket lines from the sand-bag-fillers to the wall builders were quickly formed and the teams manning the walls and slinging the sacks with practiced precision proceeded to build up the ten-foot high walls with alacrity. The mechanics from the Homeguard support teams were in the empty public center trying to organize their jumbles of parts into cohesive defense systems to be mounted on top of the walls when they were finished.

The rest of the civilians were busy digging latrines, erecting sanitary water facilities and showering tents set up at four corners around the central cook and mess tent/meeting tent, and planning out how to get every family around each fire-pit to fit in the amount of space they had. The layout for the capitol haven-groups would by necessity have to be different since the extra space between fire pits couldn't be spared. It was generally agreed that a form of long-house would best suit the occasion, with each family unit getting an allotted amount of space based on size and divided by makeshift curtains. They could set up the basic structure that day and build it with the supplies arriving that evening and the next day. Generally there were fifteen fire-pits in a haven and about twenty-one adults per fire pit or roughly five families in their tents ringed around the central pit. The long-house would take away the five or so feet of extra space between tents in a single fire group and between fire groups, but they were going to be difficult to heat since no fires were allowed inside a longhouse. They'd probably worry about that when winter got a little closer. Right now it was simply a matter of staying alive that long.

The Havens could take care of their own well enough, Midii bent herself to the task of swinging heavy bags of dirt from one persons arms to the next persons. She had more than enough problems of her own without borrowing from someone elses mess of trouble. If they had a real problem they couldn't solve, they'd no doubt bring it to her attention, until then it was their affair and not hers.

Lady Une looked around her with slightly raised eyebrows. Despite the warning that everyone was going to be moving very quickly, seeing this kind of industry in action was rather impressive. It was one thing to take a well-trained military force and make them mobile in a matter of days; it was quite another thing when there were a lot of civilians involved. As a general rule civilians were nervous, argumentative and inclined to panic; getting them to do anything that involved their rapid and wholesale displacement form their own surroundings even if it was for their own good was usually next to impossible. They'd generally stand there and argue with you about it for days trying to find another way, or simply fly off into a panic instead of listening to reason and from there the pandemonium spread.

These civilians took the young woman at her word that there was danger, reviewed the schedule she'd made for them and instead of arguing with her about it had found a way to make it work and were...making it work. They were all working together. Walls were being erected, small structures were being prepared, facilities were being organized and set up, camps were being made into orderly bivouacs. No one was running around in a panic, there was a lot of rushing but it was orderly, everyone had a job to do as quickly as possible and they were doing it; but there was a clear aura of control about the place, a sure knowledge that if there was trouble or a disagreement on something that there was someone with authority to settle it nearby and the matter would be attended to.

"I see it, but I almost don't believe it," Une muttered. "If someone had told me you could get civilians to act with this level of efficiency on something like this most military commanders including myself would have told you that you were crazy."

"These aren't normal civilians," Sally replied. She and Wufei had accompanied her on the meeting that the young leader had requested via Trowa earlier.

"How so?" Une asked.

"They're war refugees," Sally replied. "They're used to having to pack up all of their belongings and the essentials for survival and move at a moments notice to keep out of the way of advancing armies. They've been living sedentary in those Havens but I dare say that's what's made them so ready to work together; they know they have to if they're going to survive. "

"Most normal refugees don't care about each other," Une pointed out. "I've been through some refugee camps before once or twice. They don't usually care what happens to each other as long as they and their families survive."

"Maybe the difference is Homeguard then," Sally mused out loud. "The refugees in other countries usually come from everywhere, there is nothing that unites them and they live in fear; fear of the armies behind them and of each other who could prove to be an equal threat to their safety. These people are all from this country for the most part, and they all have a group of people that tries to protect them; that in turn tells them they're worth saving and protecting. Maybe Homeguard for all of these poor people does more than just the obvious."

"You're saying that Homeguard in this place is more than just an armed force set up to stop hostiles from invading their people," Wufei said, looking around him. "To a people who have nothing, any symbol of strength and hope is worth believing in. To a people with no where to go, anyone who will risk their lives to protect what little place they can call home is worth sheltering. It unites them all, no matter their background. Homeguard does more than provide aid and protection; it provides a common bond for everyone who suffers; a sign of rebellion, of saying that no matter how powerful the force that oppresses them there is still someone willing to stand up and fight for what's right. I wonder if she knows this."

"Perhaps," Sally said. "And perhaps not. It looks like you have something in common with Homeguard Wufei."

"As do you Sally," he replied.

They walked into the camp proper through one of the enormous gaps in the sandbag-walls that were still being erected and turned to the first person they saw that wasn't walking somewhere.

"Do you know where we can find Miss Une?" Lady Une inquired.

"Ummm..." the young woman said indecisively. "Last I knew she was helping to create a floating dock to make landing the people coming later tonight a little easier. Check over by the shore of the lake on the western edge."

"Thank-you," Une said and continued walking. They had come in through the north wall so the walk through the camp was illuminating. the structure of each camp was fairly obvious; a large tent in the middle, probably where all of the cooking and eating took place, four smaller tents on each corner of the apportioned space that Une could tell were sanitary facilities by the parts and equipment for collapsible showers and water purifiers lying just outside of them, then there were sixteen long house-like platforms with canvas walls and no roofs spaced at even intervals along the sides of the camps; four to a side. It was a remarkably organized and efficient layout. Lady Une was impressed.

On the very western edge of the... well, it wasn't quite a camp anymore, nor was it a single Haven but it didn't fit what Une would call a city either; she shrugged gather-haven perhaps? Anyway, there was an enormous capitol building standing right in front of the lake with all of the pompous officiousness of the Brussels presidential residency times ten. If a structure could exert a feeling this one would have been oozing self importance from every pore. The front doors were suddenly flung wide open and a small party of men dressed in the finery that the Romafeller aristocracy saved for special occasions strode out at a hurried pace. Once within hearing range the fellow in the lead boomed out with a voice that was a mixture of hearty welcome and harried relief.

"Preventor One!" the fellow greeted. "What a relief and a pleasure to see you arriving so quickly! I hadn't been expecting your agency to arrive with such alacrity, as I had just sent out the call an hour ago, otherwise I would have had a service prepared for your arrival."

Lady Une carefully schooled her blank expression from off her face; she had no idea what he was talking about and she didn't recall receiving a message from him or his colleagues but it wouldn't do for him to know that.

"Ah; hello. How may I help you gentlemen?" she asked. She didn't want to seem impatient even if she was; it wouldn't do to offend the "official" government of this country, she still had some few useful ties to Romafeller and she didn't want to jeopardize that.

"It is an outrage; an utter and complete outrage!" the tall skinny man burst out. "We woke up to see this... this... army camped out on our front lawn, our very lawn, this morning. Not only that but there was this insolent chit of a girl who didn't know he place acting as if they have every right to be here! She threatened us with her Mobile suits!"

What'sa matter? You can dish it out but you can't take it? Une thought a little sarcastically. She hated dealing with Romafeller, those self-important pompous assholes still thought they ruled the world. If Mister Trieze had been there he would have had those seven men wound round his fingers before they even knew what was coming.

Oh Mister Trieze, Lady Une thought a trifle longingly. She looked back with nostagia on the days when she had spent her life in his shadow. He would have handled the men with his natural ease, grace, style and skill and all she would have had to do was glare at them over his shoulder and attend to whatever matters he asked of her. They'd been a winning combination and Lady une missed him the most on occasions like this; she felt incomplete without him even after all of this time.

"I am sorry you feel this way mister..." she trailed off, trying to keep her expression neutral and helpful when she really wanted to grimice in dislike. The man's pompous attitude wasn't helpng matters any.

"DuLern," he supplied.

"DuLern then," she said. "I assure you, I am investigating the matter personally and will of course do what best suits the needs of the situation." There, it didn't commit her one way or the other, and it was all true, just probably not the ringing endorsement he was looking for.

"But madam I-" he started.

"If you'll excuse me, I have an investigation to run," she said and continued on her way without a backwards glance.

"With men like that in charge of the country, no wonder Homeguard and Miss Une is held in such high regard," Wufei muttered, not bothering to sieve his contempt for the man DuLern from his tone.

"And there she is now," Lady Une said pointing. A small group of about ten people in the midnight blue pilots coveralls that Homeguard favored and five people in regular civilian clothes hip-deep in the water constructing a floating dock out of various materials and actually doing a rather good job of it. These people were of necessity great improvisers. Midii and three others were hauling heavy water-filled barrels out of the water and tipping them over to scoop the wet earth out of them. Obviously somewhere along the way a plan or two had gone awry. They were soaked and involved in very heavy labor but Midii obviously wasn't one to stand aside and let others do all of the heavy work for her, she was right in the thick of things working just as hard as she asked them to work.

Someone blew a whistle and everyone clamored out of the water. once on shore they all caught hold of four or five mooring lines and began hauling, dragging the dock halfway on shore. From there most of the workers went to work securing the dock in position. Lady Une waited patiently for a lull in the work, and after a few minutes the weary team flopped onto the ground in exhaustion and opened up their canteens for a well-earned break. Sally strode over.

"Hey Midii!" she called with familiarity. "If you're not busy Lady Une's here for that meeting you asked for."

"Sally? What are y- Oh nevermind. I thought you guys wouldn't be able to make it for a few days yet."

"Well, we were in the area so we thought we'd drop by."

Midii shot Sally a look that clearly said "yeah right; pull the other one" and said to her

"In the area?"

Sally grinned. Midii rolled her eyes.

"I'm coming, just gimme a sec. I'm sorry I don't have the tent with me, I had to travel light. I'll have to kick everyone out of the public mess."

"Don't bother," Sally said. "We'll just commandeer one of the rooms inside the Capitol building. You can get warm and dry while you're at it."

Midii looked around her a little guiltily. "I'd love to say yes, but it wouldn't be right of me to. My people aren't warm and dry."

"Then let me put it to you this way; we agreed to meet with you," Sally said. "Last time you got to choose the location, now it's our turn. It would be rude of you to refuse your important guests the best hospitality you can offer; in fact it might even be considered by some to be a very grievous insult."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Midii said. "But I'm afraid the hospitality isn't mine to offer. That building doesn't belong to Homeguard."

"It's the capitol of Belterre, and are we really going to stand out here on the front lawn arguing about it all day? It's cold out and you're beginning to shiver. You'll catch your death."

"But I-" she began to protest, gesturing to her people sitting nearby, indicating that she still had a problem with leaving them out there.

"Go on," the nearest one said. "You have important stuff to do. The building might as well be yours anyway, lord knows we now own the rest of the city and if we want to use the capitol building who the hell are they to tell us no?"

"So you're saying this is another attempt to prove who's master around here?" Midii said wryly to the man who'd spoken up.

"Yeah," the man said. "It might do them some good to see that they don't have complete control even inside their little castle. Call it an object lesson."

"Alright then, as long as you square it with everyone," Midii said. "Biggs, I leave it to you."

The conversation between the two women sharing the last name Une was all business on the way in, numbers of civilians, accommodations, schedules, estimated finishing times on the walls and on the camps as well as the defensive arrays were the main topics. Once inside Lady Une took charge of a comfortable sitting room and rang for tea and a healthy lunch. While they waited for it yet more business was discussed. Sally leaned in and took a closer look at Miss Une; her eyes were bloodshot, her uniform rumpled and her face nearly grey with exhaustion.

"You look like hell," Sally said bluntly.

"Hell would be an improvement," Midii said tiredly. "I feel exhausted and the fun's just started. My muscles are sore from hauling sandbags and I can't seem to get any decent sleep. I wish this were over with already."

"If wishes were horses, beggars would ride as my great-grandmother always said," Sally replied.

"I'd ride somewhere far away from here where nobody would ever call my name when they can't figure something out," she grumbled.

Sally chuckled and said

"I doubt it, you and I both know that your sense of responsibility is too great to allow that." Midii sighed and nodded wryly in agreement.

"So," Midii said after a long pause in which they waited for lunch to finish being set up by the butler before they got down to business. "Sally has mentioned that you were a military commander, who did you serve under?" The young woman was apparently making polite conversation, or what passed for it; it was a little too personal to be truly considered idle.

"I was under the direct command of Treize Kushrenada," Une said candidly. Midii raised her eyebrows, impressed. Une was a little gratified, even in this backwoods where news of anything didn't usually penetrate they had apparently heard of the name Treize Kushrenada.

"So all of this going on out here must be pretty familiar to you then," she said. Une couldn't be sure but it sounded like Midii was trying to lead her somewhere with this. "All of the people running around trying to mobilize and prepare to recieve a lot of civilians I mean."

Une nodded cautiously in reply and said

"Yes, somewhat. I have run a few operations on Mister Trieze's orders where a lot of people had to be moved in a very short amount of time, operation daybreak comes to mind but that was a military coup. The fact that you're attempting and succeeding with something like this when it involves a lot of civilians and very limited resources is something I must commend you on."

It's not just me," Midii protested immediately. "It's not even mostly just me. Most of the really tough organizing parts are being done by the coordinators and sub-coordinators. I'm only in charge of getting everyone there safely and setting up the defenses so that they have a safe place to arrive at."

"Only, she says," Sally said dryly. "As if that weren't enough. What you're doing here and what you've done and even the fact that you recognized that there would be a need for immediate action to counter a possible threat is extraordinary make no mistake. There are a lot of military commanders, and I mean a LOT of them, who would have simply waited until Sacred Omega began to move just to see if they really intended to attack them after all and only then would they have started doing something... when it was already too late."

"I'm not a military commander," she protested, pinkening a little in embarrassment at the praise. "I'm just someone who got stuck with all of this and I'm trying to do my best. If it were up to me I wouldn't even be here; but the fact is that there really isn't anyone else, or at least there wasn't until now... oh darn, I'm putting this badly."

Une waited patiently.

"You see, back when Homeguard was just the Belterre Resistance, I was only an ordinary soldier. Actually, I was the Red Fox's best spy; I'd been trained by the Alliance you see but when they left me out for dead after my mission I came back to the only place I could call home. The Resistance took me in. They never asked more of me than I was willing to give."

"And the Alliance did?" Sally surmised, compassion written on her face. "If it's any consolation you're not the only one who's been compromised or even screwed over by them. But that's all in the past."

"Yes, but in this case it has some bearing on the present, not much but it is my story."

"Then hurry up with it," Wufei huffed impatiently. Midii childishly stuck her tongue out at him and continued on.

"I joined up with them originally just to get back at the Alliance, but then after meeting and getting to know Tony I started believing in our cause, they made me feel like I was worth something again, like I was worth believing in too. I fought beside them, took their cause as my cause; I even played emissary to all the other little pocket resistances that had sprung up around the country. So when he died in a battle against the Alliance the Resistance would have disintegrated into nothing because of infighting from within so I took over by might or by right and finished up with the work he'd wanted done. That's when I discovered that merely getting rid of the Alliance didn't change anything, not really. Belterre was still a broken land, its people were scattered its leaders fled, its cities in ruin. If I was ever truly going to create the Belterre he'd so lovingly described to me all those times over a campfire I'd have to... at first I didn't know what I'd have to do, but after meeting with the other resistance members we agreed that the civilians of Belterre were the reason we were fighting, so we'd have to find a way to provide some measure of protection for them.

That's how Homeguard was started and how it got it's name. Now as you can see were a small force to be reckoned with but I worry that... I worry that..." Midii trailed off, unable to articulate what she wanted to say. She looked to Sally for help in figuring it out.

"You're worried about the future," Sally said. "You know that your Homeguard gets along fine now and always delivers in the face of a crisis but you worry that one day its force may become too great and it will follow the path of the ones it sought to defeat, as it historically so often does."

"Yes. I know we can't afford to disband our weapons now, not in the face of threat by Sacred Omega, but I would like to know that someday we will be able to. I don't want an army. I did not overthrow one form of dictator just to become another myself!"

Lady Une smiled slowly.

"SO what are you saying then?" she inquired gently.

"You have experience that I lack," Midii said slowly. "I more or less got stuck with this job, I didn't really want it and I don't think I'm qualified for it. I have a lot of passion, and some ideas but I don't know... I don't know the mechanics of it. I don't know the kinds of things that a leader should know how to do, I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just flailing about in the dark hoping that I manage to hit something."

"I think you've done very well so far," Lady Une said. "I don't know many people twice your age with three times your experience that have the kind of respect that you command. You've gotten thousands of people to pack their things and relocate in a massive stream solely on your say-so alone."

"But I don't know what I'm doing!" Midii said. She sounded a little on edge, and a little panicked. Obviously this had been building up for quite some time. Lady Une understood, a position like hers would be stressful for a fully grown adult and Midii was still by the legal definition a child even though she had ceased to be a child long ago.

"What am I supposed to do once everyone gets here? What if I can't be what they need? I'm not ready for this, I don't know how to do it. I'm not old enough or smart enough I can't..." Midii paused. "I have something else I need to do so i need to ask a big favor of you."

"What's the favor?" Une inquired.

"Share command of Homeguard with me," Midii said bluntly. "I know it's asking a lot of you and you're probably already very busy saving the world but I need... guidance. I can't do this alone."

Une was taken aback. There weren't a lot of teenagers out there who would admit to themselves much less anyone else that there was something they couldn't do. There were a lot more adults who, once put in a position of power and control, guarded that power jealously and obsessively and lashed out at anyone who might jeopardize that power. To find someone so young who was humble enough and wise enough to ask for help when she knew she needed it was... very rare indeed.

"If you like you don't even have to stay here, you can delegate it," Midii hurried on, trying to make it as palatable as possible so that Une would give her the help she wanted. "I trust Sally, ad she has a lot of the experience I need, so if you don't want to stay here-"

"It's alright," Lady Une said soothingly. "I accept your offer for joint command but understand that I will be bringing some of my own people in."

Midii nodded quickly. Une nearly closed her eyes. If such an offer had been made to anyone less scrupulous than she, it would certainly have led to disaster. With Lady Une able to move her own people and weapons into powerful positions she would have been poised to make an easy coup if she had so desired.

"Under one condition you may move your people in," Midii stipulated. "The weapons remain on the outside of Belterre's borders."

Or not, Une thought. The young Miss had probably experienced enough of that kind of treachery firsthand that she was wise enough to know what to watch out for.

"If we leave our weapons outside this country's borders we will not be able to retrieve them in time to mobilize against Sacred Omega," Lady Une countered.

"I would lend you my weapons and fighters on a temporary basis for this fight but unfortunately we have much here in the capitol that wil require our attention and resources. If you wish i will grant you permission to use the area outside of the city as your staging area. In fact, I will give you maps of terrain, secret resources and aid you in whatever way that I can. There are a few secrets that this country has kept that I believe will certainly come in handy. The fighting you will have to do yourselves but I will have my agents keep abreast of enemy progress and numbers as best we can and report them back to you. In addition to this if there is anything I can do for you with my limited resources and man-power I will do it."

Une paused, trying to think of something to say. Her gesture showed a lot of trust and a very real willingness to aid the Lady in all matters pertaining to defense. Such cooperation between Earth Sphere and local forces was almost unheard of; either the local forces acted like territorial dogs and resented the Preventors for stepping on their turf and meddling in their affairs or they were obsequiously, fawningly grateful for Preventors assistance but underhandedly conducting their own investigation so that they would be the ones to get all of the credit and the glory.

"I will... consult on this matter," Une said, pausing and then signaling Sally and Wufei that she wished to speak with them privately. They went outside the door and down the hall and then huddled in a three person group.

"What do you think?" Une inquired.

"I don't like it," Wufei said immediately. "She's entirely too eager and willing to accommodate us without our weapons and sole means of defending ourselves."

"She must know that we have more than enough resources and personnel to launch an offensive and free our people in the event she should attempt to take us hostage," Sally countered. "Besides, I've worked with her before a couple of times. I think I know her well enough to say with certainty that she's not interested in practicing something that underhanded."

"How can you be sure?" Wufei questioned.

"I can't be of course and neither can you. But this is what my instincts are telling me; she's scared deep down whether she'll admit it or not. She's tired of trying to do everything herself when she isn't sure what she's supposed to be doing. She just wants help. It's help that we can give her."

"What about DuLern and those others," Wufei argued. "They're supposed to be the leadership around here."

Sally shot him a scornful look. Wufei smiled a little then shook his head.

"Okay forget about them, they're about as useful as a second nose," he said. "More of a stumbling block than a stepping stone. What's our plan?" They looked to Lady Une.

"We'll take the girl up on her offer. It's simply too good to refuse. Since she evidently trusts Sally, I'll assign the two of you here as official liaisons along with myself because I think she might come to Sally with a problem that she would be hesitant to approach me on."

"Those old resistance ties and all," Sally said wryly.

"I'll be staying to ready a staging area to launch a preemptive strike on Sacred Omega as soon as possible. I'm sure mister DuLern and the others will be quite dismayed to find that we've sided with the problem that we were supposedly sent in her to get rid of," Une said looking amused.

"Screw 'em," Sally said bluntly. "Losers."

"I do believe you've been hanging around Wufei too long dear, you're becoming just as blunt as he is," Une said.

"What does that mean?" Wufei demanded. The two women just smiled and walked back in to the conference room to tell Midii the good news.

"I'm drowning in estrogen," Wufei said woefully.

Next time on Legacy: In which Trowa convinces himself to go through with his plan…..

_ Shut it, he told his conscience. She needed protection about as much as she needed a second head, wit his luck a twin head with a mind of its own would be just as stubborn, suspicious, second-guessing and annoying as the original was. _

_His conscience replied to that thought with a reminder of how ruthless Sacred Omega could be. The massacre just showed the thoughtless waste of life they were capable of; if they were capable of open butchery without remorse it stood to reason that they could do worse. _

_She looked like someone he'd fight to protect. Trowa closed his eyes. This was wrong, she didn't deserve this, no-one could possibly deserve this. Midii..._

_He leaned her against his shoulder and snapped the manacles around her wrists, then proceeded to methodically tie her ankles with cord. He'd already made his choice and he was going to follow through with it. _

And makes a startling discovery about himself….

_He wanted her to notice him. He wanted her to feel differently about him than she felt about anyone else, wanted her to feel that he was special._

Midii suddenly leads a tortured existence….

_"I see," the man said, frowning. "Well in that case, I suppose we're truly enemies."_

_"You doubted?" Midii replied, with another obnoxious look._

_"Tell me about this Spooky I've heard so much about."_

_"It doesn't exist, that's all I can tell you," "Perhaps there is a way to change your mind." _

_Bertha hauled out a long, wiry, flexible length of cordage. Midii's unswollen eye widened. A nerve-whip. I won't break, she thought urgently. I can't break. For everyone's sake I have to stay strong. _

And makes a startling discovery.

_"Come on Michael," she urged. "Help me get out of these cuffs. This isn't the time to be standing around, someone's going to notice you're here."_

_"Midii," he said seriously, walking closer to her. "I can get you out of here."_


	10. In which a startling realization is made

Trowa pulled up to camp late in the evening after having verified that Cathy had indeed been taken to the Sacred Omega base in sector twelve. He was tired; he hadn't slept at all the previous night and he'd been riding all day. He'd take a quick nap before he began preparing to kidnap Midii Une. It would be wise to be well rested especially when dealing with a group as ruthless as Sacred Omega; he'd need his wits about him.

After seeing the camp late that evening he quickly concluded that trying to get any sleep in that place would be a lost cause. It was a screaming madhouse. There were long lines of people coming in from every direction, even docking from the lakeside! It wasn't "everybody line up and we'll show you to your places" no there were people screaming out orders at the top of their lungs trying to be heard over everyone else doing the same thing. One thing caught his attention as he went to bask in the glorious chaos; Lady Une was standing on the pristine steps of the capitol building alongside Midii. They both wore matching expressions of dismay at the pandemonium going on around them.

Lady Une said something to Midii, and Midii turned to look at her dubiously. Lady Une said something else and made an urging gesture, Midii slowly nodded her head in reluctant agreement then climbed to the top of her mobile suit and stood on it shoulder and looked out over the crowd.

Midii amped up the volume on her suit to "earsplitting" and used it as an impromptu loudspeaker.

"People of Belterre," she said, he voice sounding a little frazzled even over the amplified electronics. "I have an announcement to make. As of this afternoon, Lady Une of the Preventors has agreed to share joint command of Homeguard with me. The Preventors Agency is like the Homeguard for the rest of the world; they protect the peace for the Earth Sphere civilians just as surely as Homeguard does for Belterre. My Homeguard, I want you to listen to and obey her as you would me."

Midii paused to take a look around her from the shoulder of her suit.

"For years Belterre has looked at itself as a single island, a small but shining star all alone in the night. We've fought hard to keep our independence and isolation but that time must end, and it must end now. We are not separate from the world, we are a part of that world and if we choose to ignore the task that is given us then we meanly loose our last, best hope for peace. We cannot afford to stand on our pride to fight alone; this denies us the help and comfort of people who could share our hearts. We have been strongest when things are at their worst; a warrior shines most nobly when the battle is a loosing one and every person out here has been that warrior. We have all faced hardships, and we have learned that by working together we are stronger than we could ever be apart. What we did not see was that this applies to nations as well as individuals. Belterre has the opportunity to join the world and work alongside all people as we work alongside one another. It is an opportunity to precious to let pass. My mentor once told me that each person carries within them the hope for the future as well as the despair of the past, he said that each soul has the power to change the universe; well think of a thousand souls, a million souls all united to shape the future. That is what we may become. We will become one people, one voice that sings the song of the universe, one heart that beats the hope of earth. We will step forward into the future with the knowledge that we are one."

With that every person who had stopped to hear what Midii had stepped up to say started applauding and cheering wildly. It was like the sound of a foot-ball stadium filled to the brim with the whole crowd celebrating a victory. But this victory was the triumph of a downtrodden people given a sudden lift of hope. Midii jumped down from the shoulder of her suit and walked back to Lady Une, shooting her a look that said "there; was that good enough for you?" Lady Une smiled and shook her hand. There weren't any flashes of photography but Trowa was certain that the scene would live in the memory of the people who'd witnessed it.

The only thing he was wondering was how this was going to affect his plan. If Midii suddenly went missing there would surely be some that would suspect the Preventors of foul play, of getting rid of their leader so that they could move in and take over. Easily remedied, he'd just leave a note behind that said she'd run off with him for a few days... they eloped or something. Trowa cringed inwardly. She wouldn't be happy about that.

He shrugged mentally and quietly worked on confiscating one of the Homeguard suit carriers. It wasn't all that hard, with all of the rushing to and fro and moving about no one noticed one more moving part, or if they did they just assumed that ti was supposed to be moving an left it alone.

He'd found a hollow in the woods nearby away from the lines of civilians marching in their steady way toward the city and there he hid the modified jeep complete with stolen mobile suit under camo netting. It reminded him of his time as a Gundam pilot, where keeping his suit a secret had been top priority. The habit, he discovered, was a bit like riding a unicyle, once you learned how you never forgot it. He reviewed his mental checklist of materials he needed and had acquired for the planned kidnapping and reviewed his plan and the current situation to search for any holes.

His conscience chose that time to start nagging at him unfortunately. It told him that Midii was officially a civilian and that he shouldn't be getting her involved. It told him that he was probably being vindictive and that might be able to infiltrate the place to find Catherine if he tried hard enough. It told him that an all out frontal assault was not entirely out of the realm of possibility. It told him that he had more resources to draw on to get Cathy out of danger. It told him that Midii was still so small. It told him that he didn't know what they intended to do to her once they got her in their possession. It told him that she looked delicate. It told him she needed protection too...

Shut it, he told his conscience. She needed protection about as much as she needed a second head, wit his luck a twin head with a mind of its own would be just as stubborn, suspicious, second-guessing and annoying as the original was.

Besides, Sacred Omega probably wouldn't do anything to her. That "Spooky" of theirs was probably nothing more than a local legend, and Sacred Omega probably just wanted to know how much she'd told the Preventors about Sacred Omega's man-power, weapons and base of opps.

His conscience replied to that thought with a reminder of how ruthless Sacred Omega could be. The massacre just showed the thoughtless waste of life they were capable of; if they were capable of open butchery without remorse it stood to reason that they could do worse. Torture...

He paused. They wouldn't harm Cathy while she was still valuable as a hostage, if she lost her value as a Hostage they would likely decide to harm her to increase the feeling of urgency and incentive for the Preventors or Homeguard to start cooperating. Lady Une wouldn't negotiate, the Preventors couldn't attack right then, but Trowa wouldn't allow Sacred Omega to harm his sister. Midii was the only viable alternative. But he'd be handing her over to her enemies.

Even at her worst Midii wouldn't do that, he thought. She'd tried to save his life, torn between honor and compassion. He wanted to save his sister, he felt torn between his love for his family and the worry of what they were going to do to the relatively innocent person he would be sacrificing to get what he wanted. Part of him wondered what he'd become. In another time he never would have even considered the course of action he was preparing to take; handing any innocent over to the enemy was not an honorable course of action.

This isn't right, he realized. The feeling of wrongness that had been growing inside of him since he'd first considered his plan crystallized and solidified. Yes, Midii had betrayed him a long time ago, yes he was still mad about it; but that didn't give him the right to turn around and betray her. That didn't make it okay for him to kidnap her and use her as a bargaining chip to get Catherine out of Sacred Omega's custody. He could be sending her into terrible danger; there was the very real possibility of death or torture involved, how could he even think about it!

He sighed a little... because it was the only way. The Preventors wouldn't be ready to mount and attack for at least another week, Lady Une wouldn't negotiate with sacred Omega even if there was a hostage involved. The only way to get Catherine out of there with little to hopefully no loss of life was to exchange her for Midii Une. He didn't like it, and it was probably going to get him fired if not court-marshaled, but it was the only way.

His preparations complete he finished up and headed back to the camp to go fetch the main piece. After a full hour it was still pandemonium in the grounds for the most part but the pandemonium was at least a little more organized, it now looked like people knew where they were supposed to go or had a general idea and were trying to get there but there was still a lot of rushing about and shouting. Trowa made for Midii's suit standing in front of the capitol building and knocked on the outside of the cockpit.

"Go 'way!" her voice grumbled tiredly from the inside. Well, at least she was in there and he didn't have to go looking for her.

"Midii?" he said. "I need to talk with you." Well, actually he wasn't going to talk, he was going to lure her away from the camp like some mate-devouring spider and then cover her mouth with a chlorophorm cloth so she fell unconscious. Then he was going to tie her up and put her in the front seat of the jeep, haul ass over to sector twelve and exchange her for Catherine by threatening to shoot her if they didn't bring out his sister.

Put that way, it sounds entirely ruthless, he thought with no small amount of shame.

Her cockpit snapped open instantly. and she tumbled out, forcing him to catch her by the shoulder before she fell off completely.

"Trowa?" she said eagerly. "Did you find her? Is she alright?"

"I found her, and she's alright for now," he said. A half-truth said to lead away from the real truth is often worse than the lie, his conscience nagged. Relentlessly he plowed on. He was somewhat in full soldier mode right then, nothing was going to distract him from his objective.

"That's what I wanted to talk with you about," he said. "In private."

"Oh sure of course," she said agreeably. "Just let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

Trowa felt horrible, like a farmer preparing to kill a pig he'd raised as a pet. She climbed down from the suit and he followed after surreptitiously slipping his note of explanation into her sleeping place. No one would follow them and no one would suspect that the Preventors were involved.

"Follow me," he said instead, leading her outside the partially assembled walls away from the safety of all of her protectors and deeper into the dark woods alone but for the two of them. Midii followed him.

Trusting as a lamb, his conscience whispered. And he was the one about to lead her the slaughterhouse.

"Trowa?" she questioned, rubbing the sides of her arms in chill and looking around her at the dark woods without a soul in sight or hearing. "I don't get it, if she's hurt and you couldn't carry her surely we should have brought the medic along with us. Or if her trailer's capsized we could go back and get a team to help us. I don't see what kind of use just the two of us could be."

"Just a little further," he said.

Her instincts must be raising alarms by now, and they were correct in doing so. She must have been having that feeling that something wasn't quite right. If she was smart, she balk then and there.

"Alright," she said instead. "I trust you." Trowa actually stumbled at that. Midii hurried to help him and he explained it as a tree root. He couldn't even look at her with her pretty face shining in the moonlight and her eyes dark and looking at him in concern. This was wrong.

"Hey, I see something ahead!" Midii said excitedly rushing forward to the jeep. Trowa doused the flashlight and let his eyes adjust as he readied the cloth he would put over her mouth and nose.

"Cathy? Cathy!" Midii called, walking over to the truck to peer inside. He silently stalked up behind her.

"Hey, i recognise this-" She was cut off as Trowa snaked his arm around her waist and head an pressed the cloth doused with knock-out juice over her nose and mouth. She struggled for a moment but soon fell limp into his arms. He scooped her up and deposited her into the passenger seat of the truck. Now that he held her he noted that she didn't weigh much. He stopped to examine her to make sure there were no truly ill effects from the chlorophorm, there was the remote possibility of an allergy after all, but she slept on peacefully.

He revised his earlier assessment; she wasn't merely unattractive, she was beautiful. He studied her resting against the side of the truck he'd stolen, long thick blonde hair shining like gold in the dark, her skin turned to translucent alabaster like the finest of porcelain, glowing pale white in the moonlight almost as if it was lit from within. The planes and curves of her face soft yet sharp somehow, unshadowed by the daylight demons of consciousness. Now was the time when all pretense was gone, when all of the masks that people wore and created to do them the most good were lifted and the persons true face was revealed. She looked soft and peaceful, like a precious doll that would shatter of she was handled too roughly. She looked like someone he'd fight to protect. Trowa closed his eyes. This was wrong, she didn't deserve this, no-one could possibly deserve this. Midii...

He leaned her against his shoulder and snapped the manacles around her wrists, then proceeded to methodically tie her ankles with cord. He'd already made his choice and he was going to follow through with it.

I'll find a way to make it work, he promised himself. I won't let anyone harm her. I'll come back for her... SHe might never forgive him for what he was about to do; come to that he might never forgive himself but he couldn't see any other way around it. Catherine was a civilian who couldn't defend herself, Midii was a civilian who understood battle. It was the better choice of two evils. He was certain she'd understand his decision even if she didn't like it. She was a military commander who understood the greater good, she was also a woman who understood what it meant to have family and be willing to do anything for them; she'd understand him he just knew it. He'd make sure that she was okay, he'd make sure that she knew he wasn't abandoning her. He'd come back for her as soon as Cathy was safe.

Trowa started up the truck and pointed it east. Throughout the long trip to sector twelve with Trowa taking most of the backroads keeping clear of the llines of Haven refugees he looked over at her sleeping form periodically. Memories came unbidden of how they had ridden in the front seat of the truck with the captain together so often; how she had sometimes gotten tired and fallen asleep resting against his shoulder, how he had sometimes leaned back against her and fallen asleep. In those times his dreams hadn't been as empty as they usualy were. Now she was sleeping with her head resting against the side of the door, turned away from him, and he suddenly wished they were the two children they had been then. He wouldn't let anything happen to her. Even if she hated him...

He tried to banish the thought. She'd have every right to hate him, but that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted her to understand, he wanted her to see that he'd take care of her. He wanted her to know that he was strong enough to protect her, and that he wasn't unhappy with her all the time. It was an unfortunate choice but one that only he could make. He nearly shook his head at himself, there's no way she could possibly understand, there was no way she'd want to . No-one could be that forgiving. But he wanted her to be, somewhere inside he hoped that she would greet him with a smile when he came back to get her out of the situation he was about to put her in. He didn't want to let her go now.

WHat a mess! They spent all of their time together fighting with each other. She got on his nerves, she made him angry, she argued with him over the littlest things, she was just the same as she had been when he'd known her as a child; she blew hot and cold, she taunted and provoked him, she wasn't the least bit frightened or intimidated by him and she never bothered to hide what she thought or felt around him either. She was obnoxious. If she had an opinion she told him so, if she thought he was an idiot she told him that as well. He'd never known anyone who had been able to make him...

Feel, he realized, brought up short. Feelings; that was what was wrong with him! He was for the first time beginning to feel normal emotions like everyone else bothered to. She was the only person he knew who had gotten under his skin and could get his emotions to heat up to such a state. Under Cathy's care he'd felt deep affection between siblings but his emotions had for the most part remained mild. They got along well, there was never any real conflict that wasn't quickly resolved so the deeper emotions remained untouched. Not so with Midii. He got angry at her when she insulted him, and upset when she fought with him about stupid stuff. He felt irritated when she belittled his skills and pissed off when she dismissed him as unimportant. He'd even felt... jealousy? Yes, jealousy because there had been someone else who commanded her attention instead of him. Odd, but undeniable.

He wanted her to notice him. He wanted her to feel differently about him than she felt about anyone else, wanted her to feel that he was special. Fully half of the reason he was so upset with her all of the time was because she... wasn't noticing him? He was upset because she treated him the same as everyone else. Put that way it sound rather petty not to mention stupid. What kind of man gets upset because a girl doesn't notice him?

A man in love.

Uh -oh, he thought looking over at her sleeping form out of the corner of his eye. This wasn't happening. This wasn't even possible. This was ridiculous! It couldn't be that. There was no possible way that he was in love with her, he barely even liked her. All they ever did was fight. She was arrogant, and stubborn, and utterly intractable and had on more than one occasion accused him of being the exact same way.

He looked at her again. But she was there; she was somehow woven into the fabric of his life not once but continuously. It had been more than a single action, part of her had stayed with him, crystallizing into focus precisely what he desired for himself; a place to go home to, someone to protect, a normal life, a family. She'd had all of these things and had made him realize he wanted it too. As for now... she no longer had a family but she still made him look at himself in a new way and wonder if he was indeed adequate. He'd saved the world, fought for peace, attained everything in life he'd ever wanted but now he wondered if he'd ever truly lived? Midii lived each day with a passion and tenacity that made everything else seem somehow artificial. She lived each day like it was truly her last. Trowa had always thought he had done the same but meeting with Catherine had made him realize that he'd been living each day like he didn't want to see another one. She was still desperate and fighting because of that desperation, but she was also brave and honest and noble and compassionate. Maybe out of the two of them she was the one...

She is the one. He suddenly froze in realization. She was the one, the one he needed to feel complete. They were the same but incomplete without the other. She was his other half, his soulmate. All feeling of conflict between the two of them faded away, they fought with each other because they were so much the same and yet so different and neither could vocalize what they really wanted to say.

It seemed a little strange to suddenly stumble across it that way; like getting hit by a bus when he wasn't looking. He would have thought that something like this would have been... more dramatic somehow. Driving along through the country in the middle of a very dangerous situation seemed like an inconvenient time to realize that one was falling in love with the person they were about to trade away in an hour or two. And falling in love with Midii Une of all people; they were enemies! Enemies and at one point the only friend he'd ever known until he'd met Quatre later on in his life.

She has always been here, he thought. Part of her had stayed with him throughout his life after they'd parted ways. As children he'd found it mildly irritating that she'd always seemed to go out of her way to provoke him; she'd deliberately say things to him designed to make him react as a normal person would have reacted. "Aren't you the least bit sad Nanashi?" she'd demand; or "Do you miss it?" "That crucifix was also a transmitter." "Will you just keep shutting down your heart?" She just kept pressing him, poking and prodding to see him make any form or reaction at all. Back then he'd been incapable of it, he'd truly believed with everything in him that he would live and die the empty life of an eternal soldier. When they'd been children there hadn't been much of a gap in genders so he'd hadn't cared one way or another... but now that they were grown it seemed that the field had changed. She wasn't just the occasionally annoying girl he'd known who tried every tactic she could think of to squeeze a reaction out of him; she was still annoying but there was a whole new dimension to it.

WHile he was having this little epiphany the sky lightened from true dark to the weak grey f a cloudy morning, and the base of Sacred Omega pulled into view. They had arrived. Now he had to choose to exchange the one woman he loved as much as he was capable of loving for the woman who was his family.

There was no time for hesitation now, he had to do what was necessary even if it wasn't entirely right. A soldier understood those things and he had always been a soldier... from the day he was born. He readied the mobile suit he'd stolen from Homeguard and stowed in the back of his truck with unhurried motions. He was reluctant to do what he was about to do but his inner turmoil didn't show in any of his actions. With an economy of movement he stood the suit up and leapt down to go fetch Midii.

He opened the passenger side door of the truck and reached over to wrapped his arms around her, shaking her gently to rouse her from the chlorophorm induced sleep.

"Hey," he said. She didn't stir. He tried again shaking her a little harder.

"Open your eyes Midii, look at me," he said. Her wide blue eyes cracked open a little hazily and she dreamily focused on him. She was still caught in the state between waking and dreaming so when she saw him, her face softened and glowed into a smile. She looked pale and fragile in the weak light of morning.

"Trowa," she murmured. The sound of her voice and the soft, caring look on her face were doing funny things to his heartbeat. She was looking at him like he was the sole center of her world and he suddenly wanted to keep her there looking at him like that more than he'd ever wanted anything before.

"Midii I want you to listen to me," he said intently, willing her out of the grip of the drug and into full consciousness so she would hear and remember what he was going to say. She just looked at him with a soft expression on her face.

"Remember this. I'm not leaving you, I won't leave you behind I promise. I'm going to come back for you; if you believe nothing else believe that; I'll always come for you."

Midii smiled the soft beatific smile of an angel and reached up with one hand to softly stroke his cheek, sleepily trying to reassure him.

"I need to leave you here in order to get my sister out but I'm going to come back for you so don't worry," he said his voice unusually intense. She had to remember this much, she had to know that he wasn't going to leave her. She was still in a fog, her eyes weren't quite focusing on him, and she would probably think that all of this was a dream. He gathered her up and pulled her out of the truck. She leaned against his chest trustingly, the warm breaths from her parted lips puffin over his collar. He didn't want this, but he was going to do it anyway. He caught the chain up from the ground and stowed them both in the cockpit. Then with reluctant resolution he turn the mobile suit east toward the base of Sacred Omega and set it to walking.

The base loomed on the horizon with threatening looming. The outer walls bristled with weapons exuding an aura of threat. Trowa wasted no time once he was within sight of the base. He amped up the com system on his mobile suit and called to the inhabitants.

"You have unlawfully taken one Catherine Bloom hostage. Bring her out. I am willing to exchange her for the one you have an interest in acquiring."

There was a small stir along the walls and one of the guards detached to go off and find someone in charge. A few seconds later two more figures hurried up to the fore of the walls.

"How do we know that you have the one we want?" someone asked using a hand-held loudspeaker.

"Number One of Homeguard correct?" Trowa asked. His grip unconsciously tightened on her tiny form. "Show me your hostage and I'll show you mine."

Catherine's pale and frightened face was brought forward to the wall. Trowa brought the hand of the mobile suit up underneath the cockpit, opened the door of the cockpit, shoved her out and then resealed it. For the sake of pretenses he had to make it look like he didn't care about what happened to Midii. If they knew he cared about her they'd up security, making it harder for him to come back and penetrate their defenses later. And he would come back for her later.

"Alright," the man at the wall with the loudspeaker said. "So you have her, hand her over and we'll give you your circus girl."

"No," Trowa said. He wasn't stupid, if he simply gave Midii over to them then there was no guarantee that they would give him Catherine, and then they would have two hostages instead of one. "The hostage first and then I'll give you the Homeguard leader."

"If we do that there's no guarantee that you'll not simply take them both and leave," the negotiator argued in turn. "Mind you it would be stupid since our numbers and forces outnumber you by at least a thousand, but there's always the chance you'll decide to play the hero and go and do something stupid."

Impasse.

"Send the hostage out of your gates, I'll leave the girl here on the ground. Once Catherine is in my possession I'll turn and leave the Homeguard leader behind," Trowa replied. "And if anything happens to the hostage between now and the moment she is safe with me I'll shoot your prize."

To show Sacred Omega that he wasn't joking, he set Midii on the ground and opened his gunports training his weapons array on her sleeping form.

In answer Catherine suddenly appeared at the opened front gate. Sacred Omega kept all of their guns trained on her as she walked forward. Trowa kept his attention half on her and half on the guards manning the wall with their weapons pointed at his sister. There was a tense moment as Catherine passed by Midii but she eventually obediently climbed onto the hand of his suit and let herself be picked up. Trowa slowly and reluctantly backed off, there was no guarantee that Sacred Omega wouldn't just decide to blow them all away (hence the need for the mobile suit).

He'd come back for her, but his primary concern right now had to be getting Catherine to safety, otherwise it was all for nothing. But he would be back.

Midii awoke in an uncomfortable and unnatural position. Her head was pounding and her eyes couldn't seem to stay open. At first she thought that she'd fallen asleep in her cockpit, but that didn't feel quite right. She tried to beat back the dense fog that seemed to cloud her mind and haze her senses; she lifted her head and forced her eyes to open and stay that way. Then she tried to force her mind into recognizing her surroundings or at least remember what had last happened to her.

I was... I was out in the woods, she recalled. Alone with Trowa. 

Her heart had been pounding, he'd been taking her to see Catherine, but for that short while she'd been completely alone with him walking through the woods with him, just like when they had first met. When he'd turned to look at her out of the corner of his eye Midii had seen the little boy she'd loved so much superimposed on the man she loved to fight with. She still cared about him after all of this time, and seeing the good man that he had grown into had deepened that affection. Midii wasn't brave enough to say so though, she knew she'd only be disappointed by his rejection. Really, what could possibly happen between them, the best she could hope for would be that he'd feel sorry for her, there was no way he'd ever return her feelings; not after everything she'd done to him. Besides, he'd only end up leaving her, just like everybody else.

Someone... Someone snuck up on me from behind, she remembered. Oh, I hope Trowa is okay... whoever took me must have gotten him too because this place I'm in doesn't look like the haven. 

She at last got her eyes to stay focused and her senses sharpened for long enough to get her bearings. She was secured to a sturdy chair made of metal, her hands were cuffed round the back and kept in place by a long silver chain bolted to the floor just as the chair was bolted to the floor. Her legs were lashed to each chair leg by metal cord and there was another metal cord wrapped around her torso, securing her to the chair. About the only thing she could move with any freedom was her head. She was in a bare cement room. There was a dingy light overhead, a single iron door, and a small drain no larger around than her arm in the floor. This was an interrogation room.

I don't think I could ever sleep comfortably in a room that can be hosed down, she thought. That thought led naturally to the thought of what would give them cause to hose it down; blood, and lots of it. Most likely her blood in the near future.

There was no place like this left in Belterre that she knew of. She didn't even know if she was still in Belterre. She could be anywhere because she didn't know how long she'd been out. Her stomach rumbled.

Only a matter of hours, she decided. If it had been days I would know it by the state of my body. 

Perhaps living on the edge of starvation for so long had its advantages. She knew every nuance of her body very well and her stomach was telling her that, while she hadn't eaten in some time... it hadn't yet been days.

That doesn't mean that I'm still in my country, she reminded herself. There are modes of transportation that Belterre does not use that can get a person halfway across the world in a matter of hours. I wish I knew where I was and who has taken me captive. 

A sudden hazy memory flashed to the fore of her mind. Looking up into Trowa's beautiful green eyes. He was bent over her, holding her in his arms and there was such a look of intensity on his face... he looked at her like she was the only person in the world to him right then, like he... like he loved her.

Definitely a dream, she decided. Trowa would never look at her like that; as a matter of fact she was beginning to think that Trowa would never look at anyone like that. His tearless mask hadn't changed from the first day she'd met him.

Insistently the picture reappeared. Those emerald eyes, the color of the leaves of the forests she loved so much when the sun shone through them, the most beautiful and vivid color of all. He held her in his arms with effortless strength but there was something about him that was gentle. He didn't look like the emotionless soldier that she knew him to be.

"I'll come back for you, I promise," she heard his voice say in her mind. It didn't make any sense. It had to be a figment of her imagination. Some kind of drug-induced hallucination. Trowa wouldn't look at her with that kind of look.

Midii closed her eyes. There was nothing she could do for now, all she could do was wait and see what happened. She hated to remain inactive but she had no choice. She couldn't get out of that chair and even if she could there was no way of knowing if she could get out of the room; she didn't know where she was or who her captors were so in the absence of any viable form of action there was no choice but to be patient in inaction and wait for her moment to strike.

In her drug-induced haze her defenses went down and she lost herself to the pull of memories past, her mind drifted down into a sea of memories and experiences and she sat there half awake and half dreaming drifting through her own mind.

"Nanashi! Wait!" she called to his retreating back; but he kept walking away never once looking back at her. Midii knew she deserved it, she deserved to loose him for her betrayal of him. He couldn't trust her so he was better off without her. Besides, she had a family to protect and they needed her at home.

Home, she thought longingly. She'd been wanting to go home since the moment she'd arrived at her mission objective. She'd wanted to be someplace safe, she wanted to feel safe, loved and protected. Papa would be angry at her for what she'd done but she'd done it for the sake of her family so she knew he'd understand. The Alliance had promised to come for her once she finished her mission, they promised they'd take her home and give her her payment that she'd earned. She sank to her knees and waited.

She waited there in that spot all day, busying herself by burying the corpses of the few soldiers who had remained intact enough to have enough left to bury. When night fell the Alliance still hadn't come. She started a campfire and crouched in the shadow of a half-mobile-suit for protection while she slept. By the next morning they still hadn't come for her, she waited until the sun was high in the sky and watched as it slowly moved westward and sank below the horizon. After waiting two days for them to return and pick her up she reluctantly concluded that they weren't coming back for her. They'd left her there and broke their word! It had all been for nothing. Everything was for nothing.

I might as well go home, she thought. There must be other work that I can do to get money. Who wouldn't want to use a trained spy? The whole of earth is a battleground and there's probably plenty of positions open, she thought hopefully. She wouldn't work for the Alliance that was for damned sure. She had quite a bit of a score to settle with them should she get the chance and it was going to serve them right that she was going to use everything they'd taught her against them. She also didn't want to be Nanashi's enemy if they should ever meet in the future, perhaps if they fought on the same side then someday she'd get a chance to make it right with him. If that was possible.

There was no their choice to get home other than walking. What followed was a nightmare journey for Midii. She walked through the cold and snow with only the clothes on her back. She dared travel only in secret and only at night for fear of not only the Alliance soldiers but also the roving gangs of desperados preying on war refugees, travelers, and villages alike. It was like the whole world had descended into madness. This wasn't the order that The Alliance had promised!

She slept cold and hungry in ditches, sifting through trash to find anything remotely edible to keep her going through her long journey. One time during the night someone had made off with her outer parka and her right boot wore through leaving parts of her open to the elements. Her exposure to the cold and the weather made her develop a small cough deep in her chest. She was forced to scavenge food and extra clothes from houses that had already been abandoned as it's inhabitants had left in a hurry to find safer ground. Still she continued her hellish trek with the only goal of seeing her home and family to keep her going. After twelve days on foot she at last arrived at the edge of her country to find it in a state of chaos much the same as the rest of the world. Refugees ran about in a panic trying to stay out of the way of the armies that raged across the surface of the land. Midii tried to hurry east and north to where her home, Lyons Peak, was but her progress was impeded by staying out of the way of the battlefields and the congestion along the roads filled with long lines of refugees.

She had to warn her family! She had to get them out of there and somewhere safe. That was the only thought in her mind as she wandered the frost-hardened earth, cold and turning feverish trying desperately to make it home to her beloved family. At last, at long last after what had seemed like an eternity in frozen hell she made back to her precious home. The memory was still vivid to this day and Midii shook with the recollection of it. She tried to tell herself that it was all in the past... but it still felt real to her.

She recalled hurrying up the path to her house calling to her brothers and her father that she was home, she was finally home! There was no response to her cries. The door to her house was left hanging open, just like so many of the doors on the houses she'd snuck into for food and temporary shelter. Unwilling to believe it Midii had dashed inside the house frantically looking around the living room, then calling out for her brothers or her father. Nothing. Only silence. She'd rushed from room to room, some of the rooms showed signs of being ransacked in a hurry she rushed upstairs to see her fathers room. All empty. They were gone. Midii searched everywhere calling out desperately for her family but there was no reply. They'd left without her, abandoned her. She didn't know where they were or how to find them.

"Where is it?" an unfamiliar voice asked from behind her. Silhouetted in the front doorway there stood a strange man she'd never seen before. He wore the livery of the Earth Alliance scientist team, one of their research and development units.

"Where is what?" Midii asked cluelessly. The Alliance officer backhanded her.

"Don't play stupid!" he snapped. "I know he told you. He had to have told you."

"I don't know what you're-" Midii fond herself being held up against the wall of her own livingroom by her throat. The man holding her there had such a look in his eye, he was no longer quite sane. Midii was scared, afraid for her life.

"Tell me where it is!" he demanded, squeezing her throat.

Desperate to breathe, Midii lashed out with her foot catching the man off guard so that he momentarily loosened his grip. That moment was all she needed, Midii wriggled out of his grasp and bolted for the open door. She was caught before she could make it. Midii lunged at him unexpectedly, if she was going down, she was going down fighting. By some miracle in the uneven struggle she managed to get a hold on the alliance man's gun that they all carried in a holster at their waist. She didn't think, she just pointed it upwards at him and squeezed the trigger. There was a thunderclap and the man she'd been struggling against suddenly stopped; his grip went slack and his eyes rolled back into his head. He slumped limply to the ground; dead.

I killed him, she thought in shocked horror. I've killed someone. She felt suddenly numb inside. Was this the way Nanashi felt all the time? She backed away from the sight of another too-still mound lying on the ground, running blindly out of her abandoned home. She didn't know how long or how far she ran, only that eventually she joined up with a stream of strangers, all refugees from distant towns. By this point she was numb through and through and too fevered to stand. No one cared about a strange little girl all alone, no one had cared whether she lived or died or how sick she was as long as she didn't do it near them.

Too weak with fever and hunger to go on, the last thing she remembered was slumping against the wheel of an unfamiliar jeep and loosing consciousness to exhaustion. Then she woke up to a kindly, yet unfamiliar face hovering over her urging her to drink something hot that tasted vaguely of herbs. Her body burned with fever and she couldn't move, she was too weak to even ask where she was. A week later she slowly started her recovery and she learned that she'd been discovered and taken in by Red Fox Kenly, the leader of the Belterre Resistance. He'd nursed her back to health and offered her a place to stay with him and his small band of rebels as they traveled. Midii smiled, she could accept this without feeling guilty.

Once she was feeling better, Midii told her rescuer about what had happened to her concerning her acceptance of a job and training by the Alliance and the fact that they'd left her to die alone once they were through with her; she told him of her journey and the sorrowful conditions in the world as well as their country. She wanted to look for her family, but had to concede that staying with the group would be better than searching alone. Besides, she still had a score to settle with the Alliance; self-defense killing didn't count. So Midii joined up with the resistance and at age ten became a full-fledged operative. Red Fox kept the details of her past to himself because she asked him to and she was accepted based purely on her skills.

She used her training and her knowledge of the way the Alliance military worked to ferret out their weaknesses in supply trains and outposts, she soon became one of the Resistance's most valued team members and the Red Fox's personal favorite. He treated her as part favored aide and part cherished granddaughter, teaching her everything he knew about tactics and strategy. He'd even taught her to play chess and they had spent many evenings engaged in a match. Still, despite her new sense of purpose and the camaraderie and the feeling of belonging that came with being part of the resistance Midii still felt the loss of her family as a desperate ache deep inside of her that never went away.

She soon attached herself to one Micheal Bryson, one of the other war orphans picked up by the resistance, and the two of them formed and inseparable and unbeatable team. He couldn't replace her precious family, but Bryson had certainly helped to ease the ache of loss. Over time she looked on Red Fox as a surrogate father and loved him just as much, and Bryson became her replacement brother. The resistance became her family and on that sad day when the Red Fox died in battle she mourned the loss like she had lost her own father and swore to herself that she'd continue on in his path, for the honor of his memory, for the pride of her family, and for the sake of the civilians like she had been she'd find a way to ensure that no-one else had to suffer like she'd suffered. From there to here had been a long road, and she sure as fire wasn't going to give in at this point in the game.

Catherine glared at her brother with disfavor as he hurriedly bundled her into the passengers side of the truck. Trowa could feel her anger and displeasure with him personally like a tiny sun beating down on him. He ignored it and started up the truck, leaving the suit behind hidden in another hollow in the woods. He'd need it later most likely. After a half an hour Trowa found the main road that led through the woods to the west. It could be followed all the way to the capitol city easily but it was more likely she'd meet the tail end of the refugee's fleeing to the city.

"I can't believe you did that Trowa!" Catherine said finally breaking the silence in the cab of the truck.

"It was necessary," he said tonelessly.

"I don't know what the big deal is between you two, but I can't believe that your enmity would go so far that you'd just throw her to the wolves. This isn't like you Trowa," she said, looking at him with worry and hurt in her eyes. She wanted him to make it all better, she wanted him to live up to her faith in him.

"It's not about that Cathy. This isn't just between Midii and me; she would understand my decision," he replied in his cool emotionless tones.

"I don't understand it!" Cathy said. She was working herself into one of her excited states, if Trowa didn't start explaining fast there was liable to be some slaps distributed.

"The choice was the logical one to make based on the circumstances. Exchanging Midii for you as a hostage was the only way to avoid a direct confrontation with the enemy when we are still unprepared to fight them. It is highly unlikely that Midii has what they're looking for, otherwise she would surely have used it by now to defeat them."

"But you handed her over to her enemies," Catherine said. "You don't know what they will do to her."

"Better her than you," Trowa said.

There was the sharp sound of flesh impacting with flesh. Catherine made an angry noise and turned away from him, folding her arms crossly over her chest. Trowa tried to ignore the dull angry throb from where she'd slapped him. He deserved that one.

After a few more miles the road evened out and was clearly drivable and clearly the right one. Trowa stopped the jeep and got out pausing at the open door.

"I never said I was leaving her there Cathy," he said. "You should be able to make it fine on your own from here, just follow this road. I'm going back for her so don't worry."

"T-Trowa...?" she said turning over to look at him. He was instantly forgiven. Trowa smiled the small smile he allowed himself and shut the dorr behind him, sticking his hands in his pockets he walked back down the road. He heard the sound of the jeep being started up again; Cathy trusted him to do his part so she was going to do hers by doing as he asked. It was going to be a long walk back, and at the end of his journey waited the task of infiltrating a well-armed enemy base, but he felt oddly light for the first time in a while.

Midii wasn't sure when she'd drifted back into sleep but she awoke instantly to the sound of the door opening. In walked three guys in para-military gear, a man dressed in fine, expensive robes with Sacred Omega's symbol on it, and a tall, huge heavy-set women who definitely worked out. The first three were obviously guards, she reckoned, they wore weapons slung over their shoulders and silly looking berets and had that military-type snap to them. The woman wore entirely black leather, with a lot of metal studs on herself, piercing, and Midii didn't miss the brass knucks she wore on each hand... some kind of an enforcer then. Boy, she got the sinking feeling that this wasn't going to be very fun. The final man was likely the real power in the room. The clothes he wore were a strange cross between military fatigues and a priestly robe, and they made of the finest fabrics, what she could only guess was real silk (she'd never actually seen real silk before) and she thought it might have been trimmed with real gold bullion. She could probably feed Homeguard for a month on the trims of his robe alone.

Robe-guy was tall and ascetic-looking but by the muscled build of his chest he was not only far from starving he was very active physically. He had an aura of vigor and command about him that Midii could only envy; from the top of his shaved head to the tips of his polished boots he looked every bit like the kind of man and leader that people would throw themselves off a cliff for. He was looking at her with dark, glittering appraising eyes and Midii felt oddly like a mouse caught in the gaze of a snake and unable to look away.

"So..." he said at last stepping forward and circling around her chair to with the air of a camel buyer looking to buy and inspecting hte merchandize before her haggled with the dealer. His voice was deep and sonorous, the kind of voice that could make a woman weep and do anything just so that he would keep talking.

"You are the little lamb that has caused us all so much trouble."

Midii was still feeling the ill-effects of whatever drug they had used to knock her out; he head was pounding too hard for her to even begin to articulate words so she just looked at him.

"No answer, little lamb?" he inquired. It sounded more rhetorical than curious. "Well, that's alright then. I'm sure that given time you'll become comfortable enough. In the meantime, why don't you just answer a few questions of mine, you don't have to say anything just nod your head yes or no."

Midii just looked at him, or tried to, he was circling around her again. She felt sick.

"You've gone and made a deal with an unholy group of fiends called "the Preventors" have you not?"

It's not exactly a state secret, she thought. If his people were a quarter the effectiveness of mine he'd still know the answer to that. Should I answer? I could be committing myself to being cooperate throughout his little interrogation. 

"Having trouble making up your mind are we little lamb?" the man asked after a lengthy pause. "Perhaps I should show you the love a shepard shows one of his flock who has gone astray."

He signaled the woman in black-studded leather to come forward. The enormous broad covered the distance in one stride and casually reached down and backhanded Midii across the face. Midii's head exploded and she saw stars, her ears rang and her temples throbbed hard enough to split her head in two.

"Now, have you or have you not made an accord with those Hell-fiends the Preventors?" the man with the voice that seemed to cut through the fog and pan like a knife said. Midii could still hardly hear him or understand what he was saying. Her mind was too dense to process anything and her ears were ringing. She just looked at him uncomprehendingly. The woman reached down and instead of a slap, her fist was closed and it felt like a brick had hit her across the jaw. Midii's head lolled back on her shoulders and she surrendered herself to dizziness. Her mind swirled and thought technically still conscious she wasn't aware of anything going on around her. Dimly, like she had her head underwater, she heard the amazing voice say something else but it was too far away for her to understand.

She felt a sharp pain stab into the side of her neck. Within a few minutes she felt the effects of the drug fade from her body and her mind felt awake and alert for the first time in what felt like a long time. Her head still hurt but it had faded to a dull ache instead of a pain that was all encompassing. She blinked a few times and looked over at the assembly as if just now noticing them.

"Who are you?" Midii demanded. "Where am I? Why have you brought me here?"

"I am Father Beneficence, leader of Sacred Omega, Keeper of the Great Divine Truth, Bringer of the Holy Light and Defender of the Faithful." His sonorous voice seemed to re-echo in the tiny bare room and fill it to capacity with self-importance. Midii just shot him a look that clearly said she wasn't impressed.

"That answers the who and the where Father Booby-hatch, but how 'bout a "why" while you're at it?" she muttered.

"Impertinence will not be tolerated," he said. Big Bertha, as Midii had come to internally call her, stepped forward again and delivered another one of her brass-knuckle blows; this one went into Midii's rib causing her to cry out in pain from her previous injury. Why did they always have to find her previous injuries?

"Got it," she gasped.

"Good," he said. "Now, to business. I have brought you here because you have information I want and you will share it with me, one way or another."

"Bite me," she said succinctly.

"Oh, no child, stupidity might be catching."

Midii glared at him, but she doubted that she looked very impressive with her right eye swelling up.

"Whaddaya wanna know?" she asked. "I would say that you already know the answer to the first question you asked."

"Ah, but I want details," he replied. "What did you tell them about us and our operations, what was the deal that you made with them?"

"What does it matter?" she shot back.

"It matters, especially to you. Cooperation is rewarded, intransigence is punished. As my lovely associate here has just demonstrated."

Associate eh? she thought cannily, reappraising her evaluation of Big Bertha. She'd thought that the woman was one of Sacred Omega's goons but apparently she was merely in their employ and not a "true believer." Probably just someone who enjoyed delivering pain and would work for anyone who would delight in her skill at doing so.

"Well as it so happens, I told them everything I know about you," Midii said with sweet obnoxiousness. "It wasn't much really, your numbers, resources and man-power to date and everything we had gathered about your base previously; the layout, weaknesses, entrances, exits, bunkers and so on."

There, let him chew on that for a while. The Preventors knew everything she could tell them about Sacred Omega; the lines had been drawn so to speak.

"I see," the man said, frowning. "Well in that case, I suppose we're truly enemies."

"You doubted?" Midii replied, with another obnoxious look.

"Tell me about this Spooky I've heard so much about."

"It doesn't exist, that's all I can tell you," Midii said scornfully. "It's only a myth, something someone made up and it got popular."

"On the contrary I have reason to believe that it does indeed exist. In fact I have seen it," he said.

"Really," Midii said, going out of her way to show her skepticism.

"Indeed. A silver suit that appears from thin air and destroys its opponents like Gods own vengeance. I want it."

"It doesn't exist, so why are you asking me about it? You may have seen something and I can't dispute that since I wasn't there, but that doesn't mean I know anything about it or where to find it if you're right and I'm wrong... which I doubt is the case."

"Your denial is most convincing, but I know you lie," he said. "You cannot hide the truth from one who is touched by the holy light of our lord."

"You're touched alright," she agreed. "Touched in the head."

That, of course, earned her another love tap from big bertha in black leather.

"Midii Une, agent 8472," the so-called Father Beneficence said. Right then, Midii wished he would have lived up to his name a little more. Those blows by Bertha certainly didn't tickle and she was very hungry. Her eyes widened when he mentioned her old Alliance designation.

"Trained as a spy, were you?" he inquired.

"It was either that or the Hokey-Pokey... heeyyy, that's what it's all about!"

"Very amusing," he said, Bertha leaned forward and nailed her rib again. Apparently she didn't find it so funny. Bitch.

"Your father was a scientist," he continued. "A mobile suit scientist."

"That's not true," Midii replied. "He was a particle field scientist. He worked mostly on contained-shielding devices and artificial weather, which you would have known if you'd read his papers."

"But it was his research and development which led to the very first planet-defenders... the energy shields around mobile suits that block plasma weapons if I am not mistaken," Father Beneficence replied.

"My father always regretted that the projects he'd developed to help people were used in war," Midii said in return.

"He worked for the Alliance at one point, his resume was impressive... part of their weapons research and development team if I'm not mistaken."

"He was coerced into it and he got away as soon as he could. I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"He was working on a very classified top-secret project. Even I could find out very little about it except for the fact that the main scientist in charge, your father Miss Une, supposedly made off with the project in question and then burned all of his notes and covered his tracks so well that the Alliance could not find him."

"Yippy-skippy, good for him," she said sarcastically. "Ugh!" she grunted when Bertha nailed her again. This was starting to get old.

"I have a theory," said the good Father.

"And I suppose you're going to tell me what it is. My heart pounds with anticipation."

Bertha not only nailed her rib, but dug her thumb into the still-healing wound on Midii's shoulder and gave her another right hook for her trouble. That was it, as soon as Midii got free, that bitch was going down.

"I think," the Father continued as if she'd not spoken. "That this project of his may have something to do with the mythical Spooky. After all, it is Belterre that your father fled to. And if he had kept his project instead of destroying it it logically follows that he would have hidden it somewhere; somewhere in this country."

"That's a lot of supposition doc, and even if you're right and it actually exists there's no way to know that he invented it or that it was he that made off with it or that he kept it around if he did indeed make off with it. If he felt it was enough trouble to take out of the hands of the Alliance he'd have destroyed it."

"But you see, scientists often suffer the weakness of becoming too attached to their little projects. They spend so many long hours toiling away on it, putting their minds hard at work to figure out a way to make their goals a reality that when it comes time to push the button... they can't do it."

Midii sighed tiredly and looked at him in annoyance.

"This is all fascinating I'm sure but what the heck would I know about any of this? I was only ten years old the last time I saw him and not too horribly curious about whatever the hell he was working on. So why bother to ask me?"

"Why because I think you know more than you're letting on of course," the Father sid in mock surprise. "You could have used Spooky's destruction of the Alliance bases as a way to confirm that God was on your side, and yet you continued to deny the very fact that it existed."

"That's because only a crackpot like you would make such a claim and only a bunch of lunatics like your sheep-followers would believe such a load of crap," Midii replied.

"Oh... that wasn't very nice. Not very nice at all."

Two of the guards strode forward and unwrapped the cord around her torso, then took the chains securing each of her wrists to the floor and strung them through pulleys in the ceiling lifting her up off from the ground. Her shoulder screamed in agony at this treatment. The chair was removed. Midii had a bad feeling she wasn't going to like what came next.

I won't break, she thought urgently. I can't break. For everyone's sake I have to stay strong. 

"You know where it is," Father Beneficence said. "Tell me where to find it."

"It doesn't exist," Midii replied. She'd been singing the same song for so long that she half-believed it herself, but she knew better.

"Perhaps there is a way to change your mind."

Bertha hauled out a long, wiry, flexible length of cordage. Midii's unswollen eye widened. A nerve-whip. She'd heard of them, but never actually seen one. From what she had heard about them they do any physical damage, there were no lacerations or burns on the skin. The reason they were so effective was that they operated under the skin, they sent a jolt along the nerves that could reach through almost the entire nervous system. The kind of pain they delivered to the nervous system could be altered, on one strike a person might feel like their entire body was being burned away by flame, on another strike it might feel like they were having their skin shredded from them, so it was very versatile. Not only that but the degree of pain delivered could be increased or decreased, and the area of pain could be localized or spread throughout the body. But the most worrisome thing about the nerve whip was the rumor that if anyone were ever struck with one fifty times in a row it would stop their heart and they would die.

"You know what this is, don't you?" Father Beneficence said rhetorically. "Of course you do. It really doesn't have to be this way you know, just tell us where we can find the suit and we'll let you go."

"I told you," she said, bracing herself. "It doesn't exist."

Shutting her eyes and tightening her body didn't help. When the first wave of pain crashed through her she cried out in agony. She'd been injured several times in battle but she'd never experienced anything quite like it. Her skin ached and burned, like someone had taken it and twisted it in two opposite directions. It faded quickly, which was a relief but for that one second it lasted Midii was very glad that she couldn't do anything other than scream otherwise she would have told them everything she knew.

"Well, what do you think of my little toy hm?" the good Padre questioned her. Midii was left gasping for breath and the skin along her body was tingling in an unpleasant way, like pins and needles all along her body.

"I think you're still fucking nuts," she spat at him. "And I think your suit still doesn't exist."

"Well, perhaps the lowest setting was too easy for you," he said gamely.

That was the lowest setting! Midii thought, her body seizing in panic. She was caught of guard by another wave of pain. It rushed past her face and over her skin like a hot wind and Midii felt like she'd been blasted by tiny shards of glass, tingling and cutting along her nerves, abrading her flesh. She sobbed. it just didn't seem to end. It crashed over her again and when it finally left her she was left shaking and weak with a lingering residual burn along the surface. She groaned, unable to do anything but hang there and wait for the last of it to fade.

"This can all be avoided," Beneficence said cajolingly. "Just tell me what I want to know and we'll set you down; you'll be free to go."

"Again, I can't tell you what I don't know," she insisted. The pain was incredible but she wasn't broken yet. She wasn't looking forward to the next wave which was certain to be even worse than the last but the fact was she couldn't afford to break. Putting that Thing in the hands of an unscrupulous man like this Father Beneficence was not an option in her mind. She wished she were dead already.

Well, forty eight more to go, she thought wryly. If she could hold out that long.

As predicted the next lash was a burst of fire over her nerves a chemical nova all along her body. Her whole world consisted of nothing but agony, from her very fingertips to the soles of her feet she was awash with flame, like she dived into a pool of lava. She screamed until her voice cracked and she ran out of breath and from there was reduced to pathetic quivering sobs.

"I don't know anything dammit!" she screamed at him. She tried to kick him but her feet were still bound to the ring in the floor and she was too weak by then to physically struggle. To her anger she felt tears seep out of her eyes and stream down her face.

Father Beneficence seemed pleased by that however and said

"We'll let that stand for now. I'll leave you for one hour, give you some time to reflect on your level of cooperation when next we meet."

He turned and strode out of the doorway followed by bertha and the three guards. Midii was left alone in the silence of her cell, still hanging from the ceiling by her wrists. If this was supposed to make her cooperate they were going about it the wrong way. It was like with the story of Job, the Devil took away everything he'd owned, heaped trial after trial upon him, until all Job'd had left was his faith in God. If the devil had really wanted to win that bet, he'd have given the man paradise, everything he could ever want or ask for, a perfection of a world in which nothing ever happened... and waited. It wouldn't have been long before Job would have gone to him begging for some excitement, something to break up the monotony. They'd threatened her, harmed her, and by so doing had secured her eternal non-cooperation. She wouldn't help them if it would give her back her own family. Then again, she probably wouldn't have helped them if they'd made nice with her either; but now her dislike of them was intensely personal.

Trowa looked out from the edge of the forest at the massive base that Sacred Omega had built for themselves. It was an unfortunately well known fact that the greatest weak point of any base or fortress-type establishment was the fact that they had to discard waste, either trash or human excrement. It was a horrible movie stereotype, one that he'd always had a bit of a problem with... infiltrating an enemy base through the sewer or the trash was going to make the infiltrator smell like sewage or trash. Your enemy's nose was always keener than yours; there was no point in trying to sneak around if your enemy was going to smell you coming! Trowa had always wondered why, in all those old movies, there was never a guard or a random character sniffing the air and going "what the hell is that smell?"

He'd always favored infiltrating as a potential test pilot or new recruit; his skills made him readily accepted and if his age was unusual no-one remarked on it much. Unfortunately he did not have the time to actually infiltrate the troops of Sacred Omega to get to the prison barracks so he'd have to sneak in directly.

It was high noon now; trying to sneak over the walls in broad daylight would be monumentally stupid. He could wait for nightfall but there was this urgent guilty little voice in his ear whispering "hurry, hurry hurry" so he wanted in as soon as possible. If he could find a way to lure just one of the guards out alone so that he could overpower him and steal his uniform for a swifter infiltration that would be ideal. Perhaps he could go in as a prisoner, it had always worked well for Duo. It would probably take him close to where they were holding Midii. The only problem with that would be that there would be no one on the inside to break him out he'd have to connive his own escape and then find and rescue Midii as well. It shouldn't be so very difficult really, all he had to worry about was them finding his lock-picks and hidden drug antidotes.

He didn't like walking into a situation that unprepared but time was of the essence. He wanted her out of there; he wanted her safe with him. Trowa checked the magazine on his handgun and strode up to the wall. No time like the present. His first few shots injured the guards on the wall and allowed him entrance should he choose to take it; it also roused a party of counter attackers to bring him down and they came boiling out of the main gate like a nest of hornets that had been hit with a rock. It was only a matter of time.

Now, how the hell do I get out of here? she thought, looking around her, testing her chains. With her full cognizance restored she was more than ready to figure her way out of this mess. They'd chained her to the ceiling using two different chains and a manacle for each wrist, her arms were spread apart in opposite directions and it was physically impossible to join them. Her feet were merely bound by wire cording that was looped into a ring bolted into the floor. She rather resembled those paintings on the churches near her home of an ancient crucifixion, but there was no cross.

She couldn't move much, but the metal manacles cut into her hands painfully. She was so thin her wrists were bony and they really wasn't much flesh on her, the cuff was already halfway off. SHe could probably squeeze out of it. She pressed her thumb towards her hand on her left hand and started pulling. She could get out of here. Dislocating her thumb (if it came to that) would be a small price to pay to avoid another session like the one she'd just endured.

Trowa was thrown into a cell after little more than a cursory examination and someone slapping some handcuffs on him. He'd always been on the delivering end of the cell-tossing thing, acting as a soldier for OZ and tossing all of his comrades into their single cell, being thrown into a cell was a bit of a novelty for him. They didn't know who he was so that meant that they wouldn't be expecting it when he escaped.

He started working on the lock to his cuff. Perhaps when this was all over he could talk the circus into some kind of escape artist act. It could be very profitable. The lock was open in seconds. His cell was going to be a little more complicated... it was bare cement, no windows, only one door... Nevermind. The door had the hinges on the inside. What idiot had designed this cell? Trowa calmly walked over to the door after checking from the wall beside it to make certain that no-one was looking in on him he started working on loosening the bolt from the top hinge. Piece of cake, he'd be out of there in no time.

Piece of cake, she'd be out of there in no time. If she could get her damned hand free, that was. She continued pulling on the hand she was trying to get free. The hard metal edge of the cuff bit painfully into her tender flesh. Her skin was still stinging all over. She hoped that the Nerve whip wasn't going to do permanent damage... She stood stock still as she heard the lock of her door click over. She was still hanging in her cell and her time was up. She felt a wave of fear and despair run through her, stealing her breath.

She inhaled sharply when she saw the person who walked into her cell. Her heart rose into her throat with hope and relief.

"It's you!" she gasped. She would have shouted with joy, but she didn't want to call attention to who had come to rescue her.

"I'm sorry," he said. Midii had never been so happy to see a familiar face in all of her life, aside of perhaps the time that Nanashi had come back to rescue her from the explosions.

"Whatever it is, it doesn't matter," she said almost crying in relief. "Just get me down. Hurry Bryson, before the guards come back."

"They said they wouldn't hurt you," he continued, not moving from his position by the door. Midii paused, an unpleasant sensation running through her. She pushed it aside... this was Bryson after all, he was like her own brother.

"Come on Michael," she urged. "Help me get out of these cuffs. This isn't the time to be standing around, someone's going to notice you're here."

"Midii," he said seriously, walking closer to her. "I can get you out of here."

"Not if you keep standing way the hell across the room you can't," she said in exasperation.

"Just tell me about the suit Midii," Bryson said. Midii stopped struggling with the chains. She froze and turned to look at her "brother" with dawning shock and comprehension on her face. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be.

No. Not him. Not Bryson. Michael wouldn't do that to me, she thought with wavering conviction.

"Hey, stop joking around," she said, forcing her tone to a light quality she didn't feel. "Let's get out of this place."

"Tell me where it is Midii," Bryson said, not moving a muscle. "You can tell me, don't you remember all those times when I said I needed a stronger suit? You'd never confide in me, but I can forgive you for that. Just tell me now and I'll take good care of it. You won't need to worry about anything."

Midii's world seemed to freeze slowly start unraveling as she hung there looking at someone she'd loved like her own family, like her own flesh and blood, as he betrayed her. He'd always been there for her, he'd promised he'd always take care of her... he was... he was...

This can't be! her heart screamed in anguish.

"It's not true," she whispered. "You're not..."

"I'm on the winning side Midii," Bryson said with a seriousness and implacability she'd never seen in him before. Even in the midst of the most life-threatening situations he'd always been making bad jokes. This was impossible.

"Michael..." she whispered. Her mind couldn't accept it, didn't want to accept it. The one person she trusted the most in all of the world had betrayed her. Her heart insisted on trying to find a way to believe in him.

A reason," she thought. There has to be a reason. 

"Michael... why..?"

"You're such an idealist Midii, you think that all anyone has to do is just try their hardest and everything will work out for them. You think that getting everyone to work together will change everything. Well it doesn't work that way. The only way to get by in this world is to be the strongest, if you're on the winning side no one can challenge you. I intend to be on the winning side Midii. I'm not going to loose my chance to become rich and powerful to silly sentimentality. Tell me what I want to know."

That's not it. This isn't the Michael Bryson I know. His eyes are so cold, it can't be him. This is impossible, she thought. She refused to accept it.

"I don't know what's going on here," Midii said clearly and defiantly. "But you're not the Michael Bryson I know. Michael Bryson is as close to me as my own blood kin and he would never ever sell me out to the enemy just so he could be on some winning side. I won't accept it."

The young man standing before her sighed a little and gave a gallic one-shouldered shrug. Out of no where he brought out a syringe filled with a clear yellowish liquid.

"Just relax," he said swabbing her neck with an astringent. Midii struggled to get away and he warned her that if she didn't cooperate the guards would hold her down while he administered the sodium pentothal.

Good, it's only that then, she thought. The so-called "truth serum" was only a calmative/ speech inducing compound. It would make her relax and make her more inclined to talk, but it wouldn't necessarily make her tell the truth. If she was careful, that was. The combination of that drug and the cooperation of someone she trusted on a deep and instinctual level was a dangerous one for the secrets she held inside of her mind. Midii hadn't been part of the alliance espionage training program for very long as a child; really it had just ben long enough to give her transmitters give her a few pointers and send her out into the field. If she'd stayed around for the full training she probably would have eventually made it to anti-interrogation measures provided she lived that long but entry level espionage spies were "expendables," people who didn't really matter. She'd picked up a lot because she'd been around and into some dangerous places and situations but this one was probably the worst she'd yet seen. At every other time the promise of death had been a quick one if not painless, with this there was the real possibility of a slow lingering and painful death.

Midii felt the prick of the needle entering her flesh. She hated needles. She felt her body relax and her senses slowly dull. A foggy lethargy crept back over her. Midii forced her mind away from what she knew, forced her mind into the lie she'd perfected so hard that she wouldn't slip up. She could make herself believe it. That was a skill she had, she could on occasion lie to herself so well that she came to believe the lie even if she already knew it wasn't true.

There is no suit. It's just a legend. It doesn't exist. 

"Tell me the location of the EX-01341," she heard Brysons voice say. Her tongue felt slow and heavy in her mouth. So tired.

And so, it begins. 

"It doesn't exist," she slurred.

Next time on Legacy: In which Trowa mounts a rescue, the rescue gets out of hand, and he makes some surprising discovery.


	11. In which an intterogation is made

Trowa rummaged through the dry laundry hamper, always before his uniforms had been issued to him but always before he'd entered through somewhat more official channels. He regretted that there wasn't more time for his usual strategy, if he'd entered as a test pilot he would surely have been shown the place where they kept all of their suits. He could have gotten an accurate account of their numbers to report back. Well, there was no real reason why he still couldn't get an accurate account of their numbers, dressed as a guard he would be as invisible as thought he really was a guard. He'd sneak Midii out of her cell first and then once he had her safe... on second thought, it would be easier of he did all of his exploring unencumbered, he could come back for her.

She's the reason I came here, he thought. It would be best if he located her first. He finished his selection and replaced his clothes with those of a sacred Omega guard, then backtracked to the holding section. There had only been three lighted windows aside of his own. The first two were empty, but the third held Midii suspended from the ceiling by lengths of chain while she was circled by...

He was a surprised but his expressionless face never showed it. He knew there had to be a reason why he didn't like that guy. It figured that he was a traitor; a vindictive person would have said "serves her right" but Trowa found that that wasn't the way he felt at all. He knew how it hurt to be betrayed by the person he'd come to trust and he felt pity that she would now be on the receiving end of it. He would have to wait until Bryson was done trying to extract whatever information he was after out of her.

He was her second in command, Trowa thought in puzzlement. If Sacred Omega wanted to know any information about Homeguard all they would have had to do was ask Bryson. It made no sense to capture her for that purpose, what could they possibly want out of her. He slunk closer to the door and took a "guard position" just outside of it. To the casual observer it would appear that he'd been placed there by the person doing the interrogation.

"... I want to know where that suit is Midii. Your captors will grow weary of your intransigence. Let me help you, help me and you can help yourself. They'll let you go just trust me."

"It's only a legend," she said, her voice heavy with somnolence. "It doesn't exist."

"The EX-01341 exists Midii, I've seen the old Alliance reports on its construction and testing," Bryson insisted.

"There is no suit, it doesn't exist."

Bryson sighed.

"I've been at it for an hour," he muttered. "Stubborn. If she doesn't give up soon they'll just try other methods." Louder Bryson said. "I'll be back in an hour, think about cooperation."

The guy exited the doorway and strode off without a backwards look at Trowa. Now was his chance. Trowa quickly picked the lock on the door and slipped inside. They had an hours grace period before anyone came looking for her, provided that Trowa himself remained unmissed. He quickly picked the lock on the cuffs securing her arms and she fell limply onto his shoulder. He quickly untied her legs and slung her more securely over his right shoulder. He checked the hallway before stealing out with her.

"Wh-wha?" she asked groggily.

He made a soft noise to silence her and found someplace out of the way, a weapons closet. He transferred her from his shoulders and stood her up, still keeping most of her weight in his arms. She was still heavilly sedated and her body was not inclined to obey her clouded minds instructions.

"I came back for you," he whispered. "I'm going to stash you here for a while while I go look at their..."

"No," she said softly. "Don't leave."

"I'll be-" he tried to reassure her.

"No," she said unequivocally. Her voice was slurred from the drugs but her tone and intent was unmistakable. If he tried to leave her behind, she would only follow him. "Don't leave me."

Trowa sighed. It looked like he was just going to have to do this in the obvious fashion. How he hated proving Duo right. "It's always the quiet ones who end up doing things in the loudest way." Well, it was going to have to be fast and it would be far from thorough, but he could probably take out their construction line at least. Even burdened he could still operate a suit.

Trowa picked her back up and slung her back over his shoulder; it would be easier for him to carry her than for him to attempt to help her to walk. Part of him whispered that he was enjoying playing the knight in shining armor to someone other than his sister. After accessing a local computer maintenance panel it was an easy matter for him to copy a general map of the place to a disk, in the process finding the location of the mobile suit hanger. The mobile doll control room was located elsewhere. It was closer to his current location. It looked like he'd just have to go that route then.

The room was in a tower with glass windows on all four sides of the top floor located at the very edge of the cliff. The mobile doll hanger was located beneath the control tower with a launch bay out of the clifface itself.

He quickly overcame the technical staff working inside the top room and barricaded the door so that he could work in peace for a few minutes. It was an almost exact replay of the scenario that he and his fellow pilots had used when they'd fought against the Barton Foundation. He administered a general stimulant to help re-awaken the woman he'd come to rescue, it would be more useful if she were fully aware and perhaps able to help out. She sat in the chair he placed her in in somewhat of a daze, her blank-eyes stare gave her an unusually vacuous look. He realized that much of what was attractive about her face was the character in it; the shine of intelligence in her eyes, the generous smile of her mouth and even the fain lines of pain that still shadowed her face made her look like no-one else.

Mind off the female, he ordered himself, setting to work at the nearby mobile doll control panel. There was a lot of security and passwords to hack through in order for him to be able to change the mobile dolls commands.

Reset Friend/Foe Recognition System Y/N? the computer demanded. Trowa typed the correct command, entered in a password override and then confirmed. Which took him to another menu, what would he recognize as a friend or a foe. He targeted a third of the suits on a specific location and the rest of the suits on the other sacred Omega Mobile suits, then entered the password and confirmed. He accessed another system which would allow him to lock off the system from accepting any other commands, then scrambled the passwords for the system. That should hold them off for a while.

It had taken too long for him to gain control of the system and Sacred Omega knew where they were now. Outside the sky had darkened to nightfall and another storm ripped through the teeth of the coast line. He walked over to where Midii rested in the chair. She was looking quite a bit better now, still not up to par but better than she had been a while ago. He could hear pounding on the outside of the door. They had come.

"Hey," he said, bending over her to take a closer look. "Are you ready to get out of here?"

She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"How can I trust you?" she asked him.

Trowa wasn't surprised she'd asked that question as soon as she came to her senses. He really hadn't acted very well in this situation, but he had a lot of different obligations pulling him this way and that and he'd had to compromise... Midii had just borne the brunt of that compromise. Perhaps she was better off if she didn't trust him.

"We're in this together," he replied. "Your choices are trust me and we escape or don't trust me, attempt to escape on your own and likely get caught."

"If anyone's going to get us caught it would be you," she replied. "That distraction tactic will keep the pilots and mechanics occupied and the system commands will distract the support staff, but this place is still crawling with miscellaneous guards."

"I have a suit outside the walls-" he started.

"Which does us no good, if we're inside the walls," Midii replied. "And what do you intend to do about the guards trying to break down the door?"

"Impersonate a real guard and take you as a prisoner," he said. "Then I'll pretend to escort you back to the prison cell. Once we have you alone with only a few guards I'll overpower them and we'll escape in the confusion."

Midii just looked at him for a moment and then said

"I have a better idea." She picked up a chair and swung it at a nearby pane of glass. It shattered into glittering stars that fell into the night. The wind screamed into the room ruffling papers into a vilent storm of white and letting in the scent of rain and lightning. Midii calmly walked over to the hole in the glass and looked out and down into the darkness. Trowa quickly caught her arm to keep her from falling.

"Be careful," he warned her. "You'll fall out."

"That's the idea genius," she said dryly. "The cliff doesn't slope outwards so it should be fine. Like one big diving board."

"It's seven stories down from here," he pointed out.

"I know," she said looking out and down again. The howling wind whipped at her hair making it blow wild.

"There are rocks below us as well as ocean," he persisted. This was crazy, surely she wasn't going to-

"Yes, but with any luck I'll miss them. If I don't... well it was nice knowing you." She walked back across the room from the hole in the wall.

"I'm glad you've come to your senses," he said, a little relieved that she'd changed her mind. The next thing he knew there was a sudden blur of mass and color streaking past him. He reacted to slowly to keep her from making for the hole in the wall. He watched helplessly as she jumped as far out as she could go and for a second she seemed to hang suspended in the air before beginning her six story plummet to the angry-white, crashing waves below her. Her body dropped into the sea as the storm raged on.

Who's the more foolish, the fool or the fool who follows her? he wondered to himself as he sprung off from the ledge and into the wind that ripped at his clothes and skin and screamed inside of his ears. It seemed like he spent an eternity in the arms of the wind with rain lashing at his face and the sound of the sea below him gnashing its teeth. He pulled into a dive at the last second and entered the water cleanly. He quickly surfaced.

"Midii!" He yelled above the sound of the storm and sea. A wave sloshed over his head. "Midii!" he called again. If she'd drowned...

"Over here!" she called back. The lightning flashing across the sky and leaping from cloud to cloud lighting the insides of them like chinese paper lanterns illuminated the darkness for just long enough to see her face bobbing along the surface like a mermaid. When he got her onto dry land he was going to shake her until her teeth rattled.

He swam over with strong powerful strokes, waves occasionally breaking over his head but he remained undeterred.

"There's a reef off-shore not too far away," she said. "You can see the teeth sticking up out of the water from here. I'm going to swim out to it. They won't look for us there and I know of a place we can hide."

Trowa moved to grab her but she was fast and at home in the water. Some rescuer, she regains her senses and rescues herself only to drag him along with her on her half baked escape plan.

"if you know about it, so do they." Trowa argued while they swam. "Bryson works for them now remember? Anything you've told him, he'll have told Sacred Omega."

"He doesn't know about this place," Midii shouted back over the storm. "I never told him about it."

The current was rough and the waves and storm certainly made swimming more difficult than it had to be but Towa was easily holding his own. Midii looked like she was having a tough time of it, her head kept dipping below the surface. He caught her up in his arms in a rescue hold and side stroked for the nearest form of solid land.

The reef was in plain sight now, jags and piles of rocks pointing jutting up from the crashing waves like crooked teeth in the maw of an enormous dragon. Another lighting lit the sky up in the clouds and Midii pulled to change directions slightly, heading further north. A particularly large one that had an arch connecting it to a smaller island soon appeared into view silhouetted by the crashing lighting. The rough rock bit into the palms of his hands as he easily pulled them both up out of the water.

"This way," Midii called, hurrying nimbly over the treacherous and slippery rock with what looked like the ease of long practice. "Up there." She led him to a protected opening high on the skyward-jutting tooth, stooping down low to crawl inside. It was a tight squeeze for Trowa who had a chest and shoulders that were far wider than hers but the entrance soon widened out. Midii picked a flare up from a pile of them she had right near the dry part of the entrance.

The cave was large; unnaturally so. There were sealed plastic bins scattered about with the codes and insignia of the Alliance Military. It looked like some kind of hidden storage unit. Midii flopped to the floor, exhausted, while Trowa lit another flare and went to investigate the contents of one of the bins.

"What's this place?" he asked over his shoulder.

"It's a hiding place I was shown when I was a child," Midii said. She sounded like she was being evasive for some reason. "I stashed some stuff here in case I should ever need it."

"Seems innocuous enough," he said. Then he made a triumphant noise. In one of the bins he'd found a foam mat for sleeping, several blankets, a heating unit, an electric lantern and several bags of Meals Ready to Eat.

"Take your clothes off," he ordered as he plucked out a blanket and tossed it at her.

"Excuse me?" she said.

"It's late in the season and the water was cold, there is a possibility that you could get pneumonia," he said. "Get out of those wet clothes and put on something dry or in this case cover up with that. I'll attend to dinner, such as it is."

He had already peeled out of his soaked shirt and pants and was unembarrassed-ly clad solely in his underdrawers; now he was busy setting up the heating unit, the charger said that the batteries were already full so it would work properly.

"I'm not taking off my clothes," she said crossing her arms. Trowa flicked a glance over at her. Difficult as usual. Stubborn.

"Yes you are," he replied assuredly as he finished setting up the heating unit and flicked it on. It emitted a low hum then started purring like a kitten. The hollow would be warmed soon.

"I won't look if it makes you uncomfortable; I do live with my sister you know," he said. "I know how to respect a girls privacy, but you need to get out of those cold wet things as soon as possible. I don't want to see you getting sick."

He fished out the single sleeping roll and the four other military blankets from the bottom of the bin and next went to work setting up a place to sleep. He wasn't as exhausted as Midii looked but taking over fortified structures wasn't a walk in the park either. Besides, he should at least see that there was someplace comfortable to sleep for her. He could do that much.

After he was done setting of a place for her to sleep he flicked another glance over at her. She had fallen asleep against the side of the walls, with her clothing still unchanged. She was going to get pneumonia that way.

I'm not someone who would take advantage of an innocent, he reminded himself.

And she was an innocent; she might be the leader of a para-military force and a strong leader in her own right but she had that basic core of innocence about her. Sexual innuendo tended to fly past her and she clearly worried about her virtue. If he had come to rescue her and she'd lost that he would never have been able to live with himself.

He walked over to where she slept slumped over and shook her shoulder. She stirred for a moment, and remained asleep. He tried again but she was clearly too exhausted to want to even try to remain awake after she'd found a safe place to hide. She probably figured she could attend to unimportant details like taking care of herself later. She was one of those types, she probably needed someone to look out for her.

Well, it was just the two of them right now... If she wouldn't take care of herself then he was just going to have to do it for her. He swallowed a little, took a deep breath and reached for the zipper-head on her clothes. He wasn't doing this for a perverted reason, she needed to get into something dry. She could slap him in the morning if she felt like it. He hoped it wouldn't come to that although he probably deserved one for the trick he'd pulled.

Once he had the coverall unzipped only then did it occur to him that looking at a woman in her underthings while they were alone together was not...

Well maybe if I just don't look, he thought; but that would mean he'd have to peel her out of her wet clothes by touch alone. This was becoming vastly more complicated than he'd signed on for.

Surely she'd be reasonable if he explained that he'd had to look in order to avoid accidental physical transgression; it was the lesser of two infractions. He swallowed and started to work peeling the torso-piece off. The first thing he noticed was that even though her coverall pouched out over her body, she herself was actually very slight. She'd clearly seen some hard times, there wasn't an ounce of extra flesh on her anywhere and she had small various scars from battles past.

He was surprised to discover that there was an old bandage on her upper left arm and another on the bottom of her rib cage. When he peeked beneath the bandages he noted that the wounds were a few days old, so she hadn't gotten them as a result of her captivity. There were three dark bruises on her back and Trowa couldn't imagine what had caused them.

He draped the blanket over her shoulders as a modesty-covering and started to work below the waist. He was torn between the mission he'd undertaken and trying to actually look at what he was doing as little as possible. Not that it would matter anyway, he practically had an eidetic memory and he never forgot a face (or anything else for that matter). Once he had her stripped down to her underthings he bundled her into the blanket and guided her over to the sleeping roll he'd prepared for her near the heating unit to warm her chilled skin a little. Trowa wrapped them both up in the remainder of the top- blankets and debated whether he had the extra energy to eat something. He found his own eyes drifting shut at the relief of warmth and safety. He was feeling a little sleepy after all. Midii leaned against him so he groggily changed positions to accommodate her before slowly slipping off to sleep.

Warm. That was the first thing she was aware of. In all of the time Midii had spent as the leader of Homeguard, most of the time she'd awoken in some form of minor or major discomfort; either her muscles ached from a day of hard labor, or her back and neck were stiff from sleeping in her Mobile suit cockpit, or she'd been injured and was recovering, or her tent was freezing cold, or she'd slept on a rock. The list went on; she literally couldn't remember the last time she'd awoken completely content.

The sound of the ocean permeated her senses. Midii had always been highly attuned to it, her home was right above the coast and the rhythm of the waves crashing into the land in all of its moods had always been as much a part of her as her own breath sighing in and out of her breast. She'd missed the sound terribly when she'd been traveling. Awakening to silence had always felt so unnatural to her. The scent, the taste on her tongue, the feel of the air; all were as familiar to her as her own heartbeat.

Home, she thought. She was warm, and she felt safe and cherished for some reason she wasn't awake enough to place an actual reason to. She had the air that was so familiar and dear to her filling her senses. Surely she was finally home where she belonged; or at least that was the solution that her sleep fogged brain came up with to answer the jumbled collections of feelings and impressions she got as she faded into full wakefulness.

Then as reality became a little more clear to her she realized that the equation didn't add up to the solution she'd reached. She was surrounded by cave walls for a start, but more immediately she had her head pillowed on someone and she didn't immediately recognize his scent. That was when a few other impressions hit her. 'She was mostly naked' being the primary one, followed shortly by 'the chest she rested on was bare, male and comfortably holding her.'

Awake. She was now instantly and completely awake. She snapped her head up to look around her. Trowa.

...Was sleeping with her.

What's going on here? she wondered. It was like she'd stumbled into some kind of parallel world. She was casually and comfortably cuddled with the one person of the male persuasion she hopelessly adored even though they always seemed to be fighting. It was like a scene from her favorite honeymoon fantasy, well, she hadn't pictured a cave but the rest of the details were mostly right.

"Hey," she said, poking at him. "Wake up."

He grumbled a little, tightened his arms around her, but otherwise didn't stir. She poked at him again and in reply he made a soft shushing noise and rubbed one hand up her bare hip and waist as if she were a restive beast that needed to be soothed back to slumber.

Midii wasn't certain whether she should feel, flattered, embarrassed, turned on, or weirded-out. Frankly she was actually feeling all of them at the same time vying for supremacy.

What am I feeling awkward for? This is Trowa we're talking about! Mister Perfect-Soldier-All-My-Life wouldn't know a hormone if it bit him on the nose, she thought.

She considered just going back to sleep, but she knew that the world wouldn't go away. The universe had arranged for her to be in this exact place (well, maybe not this EXACT place) at this time for a purpose obviously and there was only one thing she could think of that it would be. She sighed. It seemed that she had no real choice but to use It...

Midii resignedly pushed off his chest to get up and do what she had to do. He grumbled a little, something that sounded like "go back to sleep" and he wrapped his arms a little tighter around her waist and made another soothing caress over her waist that caused her heart to start pounding.

"Wake up!" she snapped. He woke with a start instantly awake, took the cave in in half a second and his position in in a half-second more and abruptly let her go.

"Sorry," he said rising quickly and turning his head down and away (the blanket slipped down to his waist). Midii was surprised to see him look distinctly uncomfortable. She'd never seen Trowa emit anything but this fatalistic aura of soldier-calm at all times. This was entirely too good an opportunity to allow to pass by unremarked.

"So even you get embarrassed sometimes," she needled, unable to resist.

"Just like anyone else," he replied, looking over at her out of the corner of his eye. Odd, he wasn't falling for it. Then, Trowa never had done the expected; she just couldn't get a handle on how that guy thought!

"Didn't I fall asleep with my clothes on?" she asked pointedly, narrowing her eyes at him. He had already risen from the sleeping roll they'd wound up sharing and was walking over to where he had hung their garments to drip dry the night before. He had clowns on his boxers! Midii stifled a laugh; he really, seriously did not seem the type.

"You would have gotten sick if it had stayed that way," he said unapologetically. He tossed her her Homeguard coverall and turned his back so that she could dress herself.

Midii considered taking affront anyway, but dismissed the idea; she was actually feeling too tired to pick a fight with him right now and she needed to save all of her energy for the real battle ahead. Just thinking about having to dust off and use That Thing made her feel old and exhausted. She was the only one who could do it however; she had gone to great lengths to ensure it. She couldn't do it with mister Perfect Soldier Man hanging around; she'd made it this far without having any witnesses to know it existed and she really didn't want to ruin such a great track record.

"Trowa... I want you to leave. Now," she said. "About a mile up the coast bearing north there's a cliff-side entrance to a tunnel that will take you almost directly to Sector twenty-nine. I want you to go on without me."

"Midii? What's wrong?" He asked, his voice tinged with real concern.

"I'm too tired to keep going," she lied guiltily. "I'll only be a burden to you."

Trowa was silent for a long moment then he said

"That was very good, but now you may tell me the truth."

Midii looked up at him in surprise. He was tall already, he was also standing and she merely sitting up. He looked physically very imposing to her and it was almost as if he'd grown to an intimidating height that had nothing to do with stature. Midii, being very small, never fell for the height-size intimidation tactic; she was more apt to put a hand on a hip, cock her head back and cop an attitude. But right at that moment it seemed that Trowa was one of the few people who could pull off the height intimidation thing with her. He had an aura of physical presence that was a little intimidating. How had he known?

"I always know when you're lying," he said. He sounded a little smug about it. Jerk.

"Now what are you hiding?" he pursued.

"I can't tell you," she said honestly. "It's too great a risk."

"You can trust me," he said softly.

"I can't trust anybody now. I thought Bryson... he was like my own brother..." To her supreme embarrassment her throat started to close up and tears stung and hearted up behind her eyes. She tried to hold them back; now was not the time to be getting emotional! Trowa sat back down beside her, and rather stiffly and awkwardly put an arm around her shoulders. Midii tried not to let the sobs out or the tears fall, afraid very much that if she started she wouldn't be able to stop and they didn't have the luxury of time for personal grief.

"Trowa, we have to get moving," she said with raspy breaths. "We're in enemy territory right now, and they're going to be looking for us. We have to get back and tell my people that--"

She was cut off by his lips on hers. The kiss was soft and deep, tentative and passionate at the same time. All she knew was him for that moment, the world around her disappeared and it felt like her body flew apart into its separate molecules to gravitate around him. He was her whole world. All too breifly, it was over. She looked up at him, unable to move or speak or think or breathe. He stroked a cheek with his rough, callused thumb and said

"I know you've been hurt and it's all my fault. I couldn't leave my only family behind but I never wanted you hurt either. I returned for you as quickly as I could and if I could have spared you the pain of knowing I would have. I can't ever seem to get it right, I want to protect you too."

"Trowa..." she whispered.

"I know it's a lot to ask of you considering everything you've endured recently, but I want to ask you to let me do that much even if you can't trust or forgive me. Let me protect you."

"I forgive you," she whispered, reaching up to stroke his face with her hand. She had that soft look back in her eyes, she looked at him like he was the sole center of her world. Trowa leaned in to kiss her again but paused before he did so.

"Why?" he asked.

"If you love someone enough, you can forgive them anything." And again they beat as one.

When they pulled apart it was with the reluctant admission that, while their worlds had seemed to freeze the rest of the world was still spinning on without them and they had places they were needed in. Trowa helped her to her feet and looked toward the cave entrance.

"How do you think we're going to evade capture? Surely the enemy has patrols out skimming the waters looking for us."

"We aren't going to evade them, and their patrols don't matter," Midii said clearly. "They have worn out their welcome and I intend to evict them by force if necessary."

Trowa looked over at her, that was pretty big talk, he didn't have his Gundam so he wasn't so certain that it could be backed up.

"Oh? And how precisely do you propose we do that? Knock on their door and ask them to leave?"

"No..." she said, seeming a little unsure for a moment, she hesitated then plunged on. "I'm going to trust you."

"I think I can pull it off," he said considering, mulling over what he knew of their numbers, strengths, personnel, defenses and mobile suits. "I'm pretty sure I wreaked enough damage on them last night to have them licking their wounds this morning. If I called in the others and they came with back up we might be able to wipe them out before they deployed but that would mean--"

"Don't be arrogant," Midii interrupted. "You assume that I'm asking you to take care of my problem?"

"What else could you have meant?" he inquired. "Your people and forces are occupied miles away, the suit I borrowed is still on the mainland on the other side of the Sacred Omega base which would mean we'd have to somehow sneak across the water between here and the cliffside without being noticed and then sneak around the base without being detected in order to reach it. Neither of us have a way of contacting our comrades. Naturally I assumed that you meant to send me in."

"Why is that?" she asked, curiously. "You always seem to assume that facing impossible odds is something that you alone are uniquely suited for; whenever anyone asks about it all we hear is "you're a Gundam Pilot." What's so special about a Gundam Pilot?"

"You've never heard of us?" he inquired, mildly surprised. He wasn't bragging but he and the five others had become somewhat of a household name for everything they'd managed to do during the wars and after. Everyone knew about them, whether the subjects liked it or not. They were famous.

"I told you news of the Outside travels pretty slowly in our neck of the woods, if it even travels at all," Midii said defensively.

"Well, it's just that everyone's heard of us," he said, a little abashedly. He was one of the ones who wasn't quite comfortable with the notoriety despite the fact that he was a public entertainer most of the time.

"Not me, so what's the big deal about it?" she asked curiously.

"I, and four other elite fighters besides myself, were sent down to Earth from the five LaGrange point colony clusters on the year 195 in five specially designed mobile suits called Gundams. It was called Operation Meteor, it originally had a different purpose; but the missions we were all sent on was to destroy OZ. After a series of battles and events that would take way to long to tell you in detail right now the five of us at last ended all on the same side up in space fighting against the White Fang commanded by Wind or, Milliardo Peacecraft as he was known then, and the united forces of earth of the World Nation commanded by Treize and they wanted a war that would end all wars. We gave it to them."

"So who won?" she asked curiously.

"Everybody," he said cryptically. "But the reason Gundam Pilots in particular are so well known was because we'd never been defeated."

"Oh," she said. "Well, I'm not a famous war hero or anything but I'm not about to let those guys get away with thinking they can just come in here and start pushing me around with superior strength and numbers. Put shortly... I hate bullies."

"That's a very nice sentiment. It doesn't change the fact that they still have superior strength and numbers," he pointed out.

"Superior numbers perhaps," she said cryptically. "But I think I can even the playing field in the strength department."

"How?" he inquired mildly, Midii wasn't fooled, he was watching her like a cat at a mouse-hole just waiting for her to poke her little nose out. He knew she was in there. He knew she was hiding something.

"First I want you word that what I'm about to tell you stays between us. I've spent the better part of my life keeping this secret, I've never even told Bryson about it. I wouldn't reveal it under torture either. It's too dangerous."

"Who tortured you?" he asked alertly. He was still and his posture had only changed in the slightest degree but it looked like he was now poised to strike at anything that moved. His expression and demeanor hadn't changed but she could sense that he had just become very dangerous.

"That's aside of the point," she said impatiently. "Do I have your word or not?"

"Who was it?" he demanded.

"Could we focus please?" she said. "Now isn't the time to worry about trivial details." Actually she rather suspected that her mind was downplaying how much it had hurt because now in the light of morning she was thinking 'oh it couldn't ave been that bad, I've probably suffered worse in a fight.'

"Name him," he demanded flatly.

"If I do will you give me your word?" she asked tiredly.

"Yes," he said readily.

"Father Beneficence," she replied. "He wanted to know about the thing I'm going to reveal to you since you won't just go away. I guess in this case you leave me no choice, time is of the essence."

Trowa wasn't about to leave her behind, she knew that. As troublesome as it was in this instance she was warmed by it too. She'd been left behind and abandoned and now betrayed by everyone she'd ever really loved, she'd learned that all things in this life were transitory. She had to leave others, others left her, some died, some remained but all were people who moved through this life with strings that never remained knotted to another's for long. In those brief moments bonds were formed from soul to soul that added and detracted to the persons that they all became but the only thing that remained were the words that they had all written on each others hearts. Certainly they all passed by one another, bumping shoulders as they walked along their separate life paths, there were meetings and there were partings, and sometimes reunions; but it was all transitory. Despite knowing the futility of a relationship such as theirs, she felt a little better knowing that she was able to be at his side for now.

"He's the man in charge?" Trowa inquired. Midii nodded.

"Good, then there will be no objections," he said. Midii already knew what he left unsaid, Trowa intended to kill the man. Normally she'd argue, but this time she was willing to make an exception. There was nothing like the feeling of security that came from knowing your enemy was dead.

"Let's go," he said, apparently ready to simply sneak over there through enemy infested waters and destroy their base without a worry. He just assumed that he could do it.

"Hold it," she said. "I know that you're normally hot stuff when it comes to this sort of thing but I have a better plan."

"Like jumping out of a window and plummeting seven stories to the sea with the very real chance that you could hit a rock instead of water?" Trowa reminded her.

"Better," she assured him. "And since you've given me your word to keep my secrets you can be in on it too. Normally if you'd found out about this, I'd have to kill you."

"Does this have anything to do with the mysterious "Spooky" Bryson was interrogating you about?" Trowa inquired.

"Yes. Now you see why I'm so nervous about saying anything. Since you won't leave and let me do what I need to do in secrecy, and I'm not inclined to kill you right now, I have no choice but to reveal the big secret I've kept to myself all of these years."

"You're a natural blonde?" he guessed with a slightly teasing edge to his voice. Midii ignored it.

Instead she went over to one of the cave walls and pushed on a natural formation in the rock, a small panel slid aside to reveal a number keypad beneath it. Midii punched in an eighteen digit code and the sandy floor shifted nearby. A square panel three feet by three feet covered in sand and dirt suddenly slid open.

"Come on," she said beckoning to him. Trowa was brought up a little short by this sudden development. A tiny little finger-island out in the middle of a chain on a remote off-shore reef of some backwoods little country seemed a little... out there to hold a secret base or whatever this was. How had she come to learn of it and not Bryson or any of the other members of Homeguard by the sound of it? This was an interesting new development.

"What is this?" Trowa inquired, plucking up another flare from a nearby pile just as Midii did. Oddly enough the trapdoor led to a series of winding stone stairs instead of an elevator. The scientists had all used elevators. The stairs seemed somehow archaic and medieval.

"My hidey-hole," she said. "It's one of the things I guess you could say I inherited. It's where I put things I don't want to be found, and this is something I definitely didn't want found."

The stairs twisted round in the damp and chill and Trowa felt his ears pop telling him that they were below sea level. Only the sound of their two footfalls echoed through the silence.

"It seems I'm not the only one who's found interesting places to hide something that's too dangerous to let fall into the wrong hands. We keep similar secrets Midii. So what is this thing that you've sworn never to reveal to anyone else."

"Where to start," she muttered. "Back in the days Oz and the Specials were the acknowledged leaders when it came to mobile suits; they had the best scientists, they had the top materials, they trained the best pilots etcetera and so forth. So the UESA left them in charge of all mobile suits for the military because the military likes to make divisions that overspecialize like that. What most people didn't know was that the Alliance Ground Forces had a top secret Mobile Suit research and development team... kinda like how the old United States of America's military had the Air Force nominally in charge of missiles after World War two but the Army also had its own separate missile program."

"Interesting. But it doesn't make sense, if the Alliance had the blueprints ofr a new type of mobile suit surely they would have used such a weapon in Operation Daybreak or when I and the other pilots attacked. Militaries are highly competative internally."

"I'm getting to that. My father was a top scientist and had been coerced into working for the Alliance back when I'd been no more than a baby. It was his brilliant research that led to the development of planet defenders... he'd actually meant for them to be the first step in an energy shield that would help control the weather within its sphere for the eventual terraformation of new worlds. The Alliance saw their worth as a weapon naturally. Father didn't want all of his wonderful new discoveries and inventions being used for war so he stole the baby he'd spent so many years working on, destroyed the research lab, burned all of his notes, and hid the suit he'd designed, the EX-01341, his birthdate you see, and built this place especially for it."

They passed a wall of panels with steady green lights which Midii remarked were dehumidifiers, otherwise everything within the hidden base would have quickly corroded to unusable red dust.

"How did you come to know about it?" he asked next, looking around him. There were still more steps but he could see a light not too far off.

"One night, while he was delirious with fever he told me everything in his sleep. I was only nine at the time so a lot of the stuff he told me made no sense at all until after I'd met you."

"Was that why you were so fascinated by watching me fix my suit?" he inquired.

"That was part of it," she said smiling in amusement. "You reminded me of my father sometimes when he was whole and healthy, he'd always been fixing things. And you looked very cute when you were concentrating so intently on what you were doing, you've always had good strong hands. But we're straying from the subject. The point is he'd designed this special suit and hidden it and only I knew where to find it. It's the only legacy I have of him, and it's a very scary one."

"Ah," he said. "You've kept it a secret all of this time, do you miss your father so much?"

"That isn't why I keep it a secret. I've kept it hidden so very long because it's dangerous to operate. And here we are."

Midii stopped outside of a reinforced steel door with a pretty extensive security system in it. It took a voice print, a hand print, a retina scan, and demanded a twenty digit numerical code forward and backward. When she was done and her identity had been thoroughly confirmed the computer demanded to know who the extra being with her was and she ordered that temporary access be granted to him for the time being; they had to go through an extensive rigmarole of passwords, override passwords, and confirmation codes. The security was good, but time consuming. The doors opened at last, all five of them and the lights came on in an enormous underground hangar.

Trowa looked around, a bit disappointed; there was a locker on one far wall with extra parts and rigs for re-fueling, and there was an automated mechanics repair system to handle objects too heavy to be lifted for repairs in three-g... but no suit. Midii stepped over to a central command station and dialed up a security diagnostic while Trowa continued to look around. He walked over to the mechanics station and paused. A lot of this stuff was not regulation equipment.

"Midii," he said quietly. "There's a Rycheste 837-MOL here."

"Yeah, Auturo uses it to fix Callie's drive system," Midii replied absently, busily working over at her console.

"Callie?" Trowa questioned.

"Mm-hn," she said. Then, directly in front of him where there had been nothing before appeared the outline of something massive and tall backed up against the hanger wall. There was a soft glow of blue-white light and a mobile suit kneeling on one knee like a knight before his sovereign slowly faded into view. Trowa was taken aback… it had been invisible!

"I present the EX-01341, which I affectionately dub The Excalibur."


	12. In which strange escapes are made

Trowa's eyebrows raised, impressed.

"Why the Excalibur?" he questioned. It was a pretty laden name for a suit.

"Arthurian legend says that the Excalibur will reappear when it is most needed," Midii said softly. "King Arthur raised the sword to defend the weak and to fight against tyranny and oppression. I thought it was suitable, no pun intended."

"I've never seen a mobile suit like this before," he said mildly. It was tall, taller than most ordinary mobile suits.

"Nor will you," Midii said as she continued to pap away at her control pad. "The Excalibur is the only one of its kind. It was a prototype model and since Father burned all of his notes and destroyed the hard drives that have all of the information about the systems he'd developed for it, I don't think that's likely to change."

"How did it do that disappearing act?" Trowa asked interestedly.

"I'm not exactly sure. I think father invented a sort of shielding system that bends light instead of allowing it to reflect off from an object, but that's really only a guess. I know the system only works when the suit is still, if it's moving the suit has some weird-looking blurry warp effect in the air around it... for a good pilot with a good targeting system it would be enough to lock on if they can keep up. Callie's pretty fast."

Despite the note of pride in Midii's voice there was a worried expression on her face. She walked up to stand directly before it at its feet and looked up into its metallic gaze.

"Alright suit," she said, addressing it directly as if she fully expected it to understand her. "You don't like me and I don't like you, but I need to borrow your strength one last time."

"You're the pilot?" Trowa questioned. That much would have been obvious now that he thought about it and he felt a little foolish for asking that out loud. By every evidence Midii was the sole person who knew the location of the Excalibur's hiding place if not its existence.

"As much as anyone can be," Midii said in a subdued voice. "It's more like I'm borrowing its strength. The Excalibur isn't an ordinary suit, and it requires a unique quality in the one who would pilot it. If you don't know who you are, what you want, why you're here and where you're going; if you don't have a clear sense of the battle you're fighting and the reason you fight, then trying to pilot this suit will prove fatal."

"Fatal?" Trowa questioned.

"Back when they were testing the suit the test pilots all died, every last one of them. I'm not sure what happened, but the cockpit system burned them out."

"Cockpit system?" Trowa demanded, suddenly very interested. He grabbed her arm, her uninjured one, and turned her to face him. "The zero system?" he demanded.

"Zero system? Never heard--"

"Of it, I get it. I don't suppose you would have," Trowa said. "The Zero System was a very special cockpit system designed by the five scientists who developed the Gundams. Its goal was to feed battlefield data and tactics programming directly into the pilots brain making his reaction times faster than any other fighter on the field and stretching the pilot's fighting abilities to the fullest extent. It also had the unfortunate side effect of killing off lesser pilots or making pilots who were mentally or emotionally unstable step over the edge. It was a good system... for anyone who could master it. The only ones who ever did were my comrades and Zechs Mequise who piloted Epyon."

"How many Gundams were there?" she grumbled.

"There were five original suits that were sent to Earth from the Colonies. Then there were the Custom models built by our five scientists. Then there was Wing Zero built by Quatre but piloted mostly by Heero though all of us seem to have tried it out at one point. Then there was Epyon, the suit Treize built that Heero piloted and then Zechs used to fight against us. Then there were Tallgeeses one, two and three but I don't think they count; they were made from gundanium and built of the prototype designed by the five scientists but they were never piloted by any of the five of us. I guess you might call them the OZ gundams."

"So, counting the OZ Gundams, that makes fifteen," she said. "That's a lot of alloy."

"I should probably also mention Mercurius and Veyeite; they had Gundanium armor and they were designed by the five scientists who had been coerced into working for OZ at the time... but they were only mobile dolls loaded with tactical data taken from myself and Heero Yuy."

"Seventeen. Any more?" she asked curiously.

"There wasn't seventeen at one time," he cautioned. "The Custom models were built after the originals were destroyed in various ways. So at a given time there were usually only six on the battlefeild; the five piloted by myself and my comrades and whatever Zechs happened to be using at the time."

Midii didn't say anything more about Gundams after that and the maintenance machines got to work on readying and refueling the Excalibur. Midii looked like she was readying herself, she had her eyes closed and was taking deep even breaths, obviously seeking calm and relaxation. When she opened her eyes Trowa questioned her about it.

"I said this wasn't an ordinary suit," she said in reply. "You can't just jump in and pilot it. Piloting the Excalibur under extreme stress or emotional upheaval is dangerous. I have to be calm and centered if I am to remain in control. For you, piloting a special suit is a matter of course; for me, piloting the Excalibur is only a court of last resort. This is the suit I use when I'm all out of options and I need a victory. It is powerful but also very dangerous."

"The thing you haven't explained to me is just why it is so dangerous," Trowa said. "You said it requires a special pilot, you've said that piloting it has been known to kill people. You've said that it's dangerous enough to be only used under greatest duress. Is that because it is a danger to the pilot or because it is a danger to everyone else around the suit?"

"Both of them at once," Midii said gravely. She looked up at the suit and sighed once more. She didn't like using it because it was based off from a principle that seemed like something impossible and yet it existed.

"If piloting this suit makes you nervous, I'll do it for you," Trowa said looking up at it.

"Thank-you, but it's my burden alone to carry. Besides, I think the suit would reject you as a candidate and I don't want that to happen to you."

Trowa stiffened a little.

"No offense," she added quickly. "It's just that this thing is... different."

"So is the zero system," Trowa said, she could tell by the rather stiff ring to his lack of tone that she'd offended him anyway.

"If it were just a matter of using only the primary weapons and defenses I would clear you for cockpit entry and say have at it. I've seen you fight and even at ten years old you're exceptional... but the in the battle ahead considering the size and sheer numbers of suits we'll have to combat it's likely that I'll have to use the Rowan Drive System. That's the thing that sets this suit apart from all other suits, it's the thing that kills the pilots trying to operate it and it's the reason I won't let anyone else touch Excalibur. It's not that I'm particularly attached to this suit because frankly it scares the hell out of me sometimes, it's that drive system. It's not normal."

"How so?" he asked quietly.

"It does things," she said, her voice sounding a little haunted. "Things I've never seen before, things that should be impossible. It reacts to the pilot, it makes will into reality. If it were ever to get out of control I don't think anything would be able to stop it."

Midii turned on her heel and walked over to a curtained alcove off to one side. Trowa heard the sound of a zipper and the rustle of cloth and realized she was undressing herself. She emerges a few minutes after that in a suit of light armor with an odd headpiece under her arm, it wasn't a helmet because it didn't cover face for breathing and the top was open.

"There's a secondary compartment below the cockpit," she said. "You can rejoin your comrades when I go to meet the good padre on the open field. He is most assuredly moving to attack my civilians as we speak."

The Excalibur kneeled down to a crouch and Midii scrambled up the arm, over the shoulder, and into an open hatch placed right between the shoulder-blades. It felt familiar and yet frightening at the same time, the ease with which she slipped down the narrow hatch and into the cockpit. The tac screens of the Excalibur lit up upon her entry and the automated system of her suit demanded her identity and password.

"Pilot Midii Une, password Nanashi," she replied, obscurely glad that the suits com was off and he wouldn't know that she'd used his name as her password.

"Identity confirmed. Welcome Pilot Midii Une," the mechanized voice of her cockpit AI replied.

Mobile suits didn't come with a system like this in a cockpit, she imagined that having to talk to a suit instead of pilot silently would make a lot of pilots nervous but the security system on this suit was like everything else on this suit; one of a kind. If another pilot had tried to access her suit the cockpit would have locked up and the self-destruct sequence would have commenced unless he or she knew the correct override command and confirmation password. There was no point in going to all of the trouble of surrounding the suit with a security net if just anyone could get into the cockpit and make off with it once they got past the net.

"Begin preparations," she said. "Synchronize at level one and lock in piloting preferences."

"Confirmed," Excalibur replied. Midii felt the restraining harness lock over her chest and the special arm braces that went over her hands and upper arms slide into position so that she could access them. Placing the helmet on her head she felt the padding around the sides expand to mould to her skull.

"Synchronizing... Ten percent... Thirty percent... seventy percent... Synchronization complete."

The tac screens of her cockpit in front of her lit up with a diagnostic of all systems. Despite it's long period of disuse Excalibur was at one hundred percent capacity. Midii fitted her hands into the piloting gauntlets and they glowed momentarily.

"Synchronize at level two," Midii replied. "And open intra-suit com to reserve chamber."

"Confirmed," the suit replied.

"Trowa?" Midii inquired. "Are you there?"

"Affirmative," he replied. "This looks like a cockpit."

"It's a reserve chamber. Mainly it's used as an emergency single transport unit or even emergency medical, for instance if a comrade was injured in battle you could haul him out of there in the reserve unit. It can be used as a secondary cockpit and command functions can be rerouted there but it takes the primary pilot, that's me, giving the command and it takes their password."

"I've never seen one of these on a suit."

"My father thought it was a good idea to make it that way just in case the pilot got injured and there would be someone who could take over command if necessary. It's never happened before. The internal security is pretty tight I should warn you. If anyone tries to access the suit's controls without proper authorization by the pilot or the correct override password the suit will lock down the cockpit and begin its self destruct sequence."

"It would sooner be destroyed than placed in the hands of the enemy eh?"

"A sensible precaution with something like this I think," Midii replied.

"Why are you so certain that Sacred Omega will attack the capitol in force? Wouldn't that be tipping their hand too soon?" he inquired.

"Synchronization complete," Excalibur informed her. Midii tapped in commands for the suit to go activate light shield and launch to an altitude of seven hundred feet, then to proceed on a set course.

"He wants what he wants," Midii said. "And he won't stop until he has it. He knows I'd do anything to protect my people, and he feels deep down that I know where this suit is. He's right of course, and he wants me to fight him."

"So basically you're saying that you're going to play right into his hands," Trowa remarked dryly.

"If he wants a fight then I'll give it to him. I don't start my battles, but I always finish them."

With that Midii launched her suit. It would only take two hours to reach the city at sector twenty-nine with the Excalibur traveling at maximum burn. She knew that Sacred Omega would be waiting there for her, she only hoped that the Haven and Homeguard would be ready in time to receive them and give them a proper welcome. If not, then it was all up to her.

Quatre Raberba Winner looked at the main tactic display screen on his mobile suit. Lady Une had by default been put in charge of the mobile suit troops of both Homeguard and the small contingent of suits brought in by the Preventors. His own Maguanacs were there as well, all forty of them. They needed every available suit for the battle that had sprung up on their front lawn earlier this morning without warning. When Trowa had disappeared and Number One of Homeguard had disappeared with them she'd called them in to go hunt for their comrade while Une set up a command outpost outside the city gates. When this massive army had sprung up overnight with every evidence of hostile intentions she'd asked them to remain behind and pilot their Preventors Issued mobile suits into battle. They were all modeled after the Tallgeese One, the suit that zechs had piloted that had been made as a prototype model bt the five scientists who had built their own Gundams, so they were familiar with its basic design and could use it to best advantage.

The position of Homeguard and the Preventors looked unusually bleak; Quatre hadn't know that it was possible to still be able to assemble a force like this in these peaceful times... and the disarmament had been going so well too. In total the Allied forces of Homeguard and the Preventors had three hundred and ten operational mobile suits. The enemy had approximately three times that number. Each Homeguard squad consisted of seven each, there was one squad for each of the thirty three sectors. Then there were the additional nineteen suits of Number One's mobile team making two hundred fifty mobile suits all together. Quatre had them arranged in squads for long range and short range battles to make maximum use of each and every squad member but they were all woefully outnumbered.

Homeguard faced squads of ten enemy suits arranged in phalanxes five squads deep. There were fifty suits in each of their units laid out in neat rows and columns that seemed to stretch on forever. They weren't even worried about setting up for best strategic advantage, the sheer number of them was an advantage all of its own. There were nineteen units with five rows of ten suits (or fifty suits)... so, nine hundred and fifty suits to face a little over three hundred.

"Man," Duo said, whistling through his teeth. "There's just no end to 'em. Looks like the God of Death is needed once again."

"Don't start," Wufei said repressively. "There is no justice in their actions. Attacking a civilian settlement that has not provoked them in any way is the epitome of injustice."

"Yeah, what you said," Duo agreed. "Hey Heero, ten credits says I get more than you do."

Naturally the stoic pilot ignored him and said

"This suit's all set. Ready for the order."

"Hey," Quatre said. "Has anyone seen Trowa? I haven't seen him at all, though his sister Catherine showed up late last night. I wonder where he could be."

"Don't worry about Tro, man," Duo advised. "This is a big battle and he's not the type to sit back from the action especially when his sister might be involved. He'll be along any time now."

"I guess you're right Duo," Quatre said.

"I am? I mean, of course I am. Let's get this party started."

"Don't be so anxious. Protocol demands that we let them attack first, otherwise we can't say it was a justifiable defense."

"Aww Heero, they've been sitting there for hours!" Duo replied to the first pilot. "What the heck are they waitin' for?"

Before Quatre could chide Duo for being a jinx the enemy suit in the lead fired its first shot at one of the four suits front and center of the Homeguard troops.

"Injustice!" Wufei screamed, lowering his shield.

"I guess that's our cue!" Duo said firing off the ground and charging into the fray with his beam weapon out. "If you guys are lucky, I'll leave some left over for you!"

Quatre and Heero quickly followed suit. The battle had begun.

In the distance Midii could see the streaks of fire signaling plasma weapons being fired and the sporadic bursts of flaming spheres signaling that a target ahd been destroyed. She magnified to get a better look at the battle.

"Sugoi," she breathed in amazement. There were four suits that were tearing into the fore-units of Sacred Omega's massive armada. Endlessly charging with long lines of explosions and destroyed enemies stringing out behind them, they fired on the lines before them and their enemies fell but for every enemy suit they vanquished five more strode forward to take its place. The suits of Sacred Omega may have out numbered the four suits fighting the close battle but it was clear that they were woefully outclassed. The four suits easily dodged every shot that the Sacred Omega suits fired at them with aerobatics, barrel rolls and twists that were so smooth they looked effortless.

Midii felt a pang of self-doubt, her suit might be hot stuff when it was fully awakened to battle but she didn't think she had that level of skill that she saw beating Sacred Omega to a pulp. There was a lot of Sacred Omega to beat however, the suits and forces of her people and the Preventors were mainly positioned in defense around the unprotected city, and though the four suits and the detachment of fifty or seventy who were accompanying them were creating much havoc, they were still barely making a dent in the overwhelming military force that Sacred Omega had gathered.

She set down a few leagues away from the backlines of Sacred Omega's forces switched on her stealth shield to full power, and contemplated her next move.

"What are you waiting for?" Trowa questioned. "Those are your people down there, shouldn't you go and protect them?"

"I intend to," she replied. "Excalibur needs a moment to warm to full battle mode."

She punched in the command for her suit to engage battle mode. She raised her hands and launched herself into the air, pausing at a set altitude and then stooping down into the midst of them like a hawk. Her heat shortel-pike glowed and angry red as she made her first pass, decimating the line of enemies she had targeted before she pulled up and looped around for another pass at them. They wouldn't see her as anything more than a blur and a line of destroyed suits because of the stealth shielding and Midii had never fought in a pitched and open battle before with the Excalibur; always before she had attacked manned bases at night under the cover of her light-shield. Those who had laid eyes on Excalibur had never lived to tell about it. Now it was all changed.

In for a penny, in for a pound I suppose, she thought. What she hadn't been expecting was the sheer magnitude of their forces. There was only one way to even odds that were this bad and it wasn't by attacking the suits singly. She supposed she had no real option but to activate the Rowan Drive; that was the single thing which made this suit so dangerous and Midii did not like using it. She hauled out her Plasma Rifle and showered the troops before her with plasma rounds, taking out their suits. That was really more Trowa's style of fighting.

Typical male, she thought, continuing to ire. Think that if you throw enough bullets at it the problem will eventually solve itself. 

Midii reluctantly addressed her suit.

"AI, start the Rowan Driver," she ordered.

"Confirmed," the cockpit said. Midii swallowed against her nervousness, she'd never tried to use the system as extensively as she planned on using it today and she didn't know for certain what would happen. With forces this great the best she could do was do her best and hope she lived through it. A status bar blinked into existence before her eyes and showed that her system was powering up. She was smack in the middle of the Sacred Omega army, right in the midst of where their troops were concentrated to the greatest degree when her light bending shield came down. The Rowan Driver required all auxiliary power to be rerouted to its main system. Her planet defenders were down as well. Her heat shortel still worked but she was relying solely on the reflective armor plating for defense against enemy fire. Sacred Omeaga seemed taken aback for a moment by her appearance in their midst out of thin air but wasted no time in concentrating their fire on her.

"Rowan Dive power-up complete," the cockpit informed her. She felt the strange tingling along her skin that warned her that the battle mode had been activated. The cockpit faded from around her and instead she saw the battlefeild as clearly as though she was standing outside, overlaid in the air were three-dimensional sectors a tactics and targeting display. It was a mental projection instead of an actual field as the Rowan system activated informing her of her enemies movements.

Midii nodded and closed her eyes briefly, sending up a small prayer to whatever deity might be listening that this would work without killing her or draining her so much that she could no longer pilot the Excalibur.

She saw a shield, held it in her minds eye, became it, became the idea of a shield, brought out all of her protective shielding instincts and roused them to full frenzy and pushed slightly. She felt power crackle along her skin and skitter through her senses but she held onto her sense of self and her world remained steady. Enemy fire stopped rocking the sides of her suit, cut off suddenly as if by a knife. They targeted her with their missiles and their most powerful beam cannons but the shield held without effort.

"If it's a fight they want," she muttered at them.

She gathered her thoughts again, it was time. There was the smell of Ozone around her and the tingly feeling of lightning crackling along her skin. She felt the forces gather around her like a palpable sensation, she focused, becoming one with the battle, a creature of the suit. A sphere of blue-white light appeared in front of her mobile suit. She shot it outwards at the enemies in front of her and it hung in the air, floating a moment like a soap bubble and then burst in a tsunami of pure white light that blinded anyone who looked at it. Rings of energy waves blasted out from the ground zero causing the suits within the immediate vicinity to explode instantly. The ones farther away were merely rocked with the shockwave. She looked at the smoking crater that was all that was left of twenty-five suits, another fifteen just outside the blast site were obviously deactivated. It was good for a first attack using the system; but Midii felt drained. The Rowan system had a tendency to do that.

She was about to ready another attack when she heard Trowa's voice echo through the cock pit system.

"Incoming," he replied. "One hundred from above and another two hundred ringing in from all sides. I would say you managed to attract their attention."

"Good, because I've only just gotten started," she said. If she could draw all of the enemies away from attacking her people she would have achieved her purpose. She sent out another blast in an expanding ring from the sides to take out the lateral offense then raised her hands to force her suit into the air to take on the aerial troops. She blurred past them ready with another attack from the Rowan Driver and there was a line of exploding suits behind her.

"There's too many of them," Midii muttered as the suits she destroyed were replaced by three times the previous number. There was only one way to even the odds that she could think of, the problem was that she didn't know what would happen if she made such an attempt; it was theoretically possible but the stress of making the Rowan Driver do something like that might just end up killing her.

One only lived once; at least this way her death would have meaning. What more could she ask for?

She allowed her suit to free-fall back down to the ground and pushed off with her retro boosters to slow her descent. Upon landing safely Midii changed the energy signature on her shield from defensive to shorter-wave. She closed her eyes and focused all of her will, all of her energy, all of her strength on this one attack.

Her shield burst out from her suit traveling in all directions; an enormous dome attack-wall of pure blue-white light that destroyed everything it touched. She existed only as a force of annihilation, for that one moment she was no longer Midii Une but the energy spreading out all around her. She was a being of energy, a lance of pain, a wall of thought, the idea of utter destruction. Therein lay the danger of the Rowan suit, one could become lost to the pull of the energy to the dance of air and lightning and it could consume you. The only hope for the pilot to retain their sense of self in te workings of a larger universe was to know themselves, to have a purpose for being where they were and doing what they were doing. The only hope for a pilot to not be taken over by the mysterious force that the Rowan Driver tapped into was to be utter and completely grounded in themselves at all times.

The wind screamed and the sky became white with the unleashing of such powerful energies and Midii pushed out from around her, forcing the ephemeral bubble of lightning and force out in all directions as far as it could go, as far as she could hold it together. She felt the Rowan system draining her of all of her strength, of all of her energy... She hung in the moment and all she heard was the sound of her own heart beating... low, muffled... slow. Slow. Slow...stop. She lost her grip and everything faded.


	13. Endgame

Trowa no longer had any clue what the hell was going on. Midii had warned him that the suit she piloted was dangerous, she didn't say exactly how t was dangerous or what it did, so he'd assumed that it was like the Wing Zero; dangerous only in the hands of an inexperienced or unstable pilot, capable of great destruction but only if misused.

He got on the battlefield and hadn't observed anything out of the ordinary about it aside of the fact that the enemy couldn't see them coming because of the light shield. Then, after a few passes against the enemy and some token potshots (Trowa was certain he should have been the one piloting the suit so that he could join his comrades instead of fighting alone in the middle of Sacred Omega's strongest point) the suit suddenly busts out with this... he didn't know what it was. The first blast off the weapon had decimated an entire unit of fifty suits which was the approximate strength of the self-destruct button on a Gundam. Then there was this blindingly dazzling flash of pure white light so strong that Trowa had had to shield his eyes for a moment. Once the light finally faded there was nothing around him but carnage. Whatever it was had just taken out a third of Sacred Omega's forces in an exact circle around them. SIx units were gone and several more facing heavy casualties.

Heero, Duo, Quatre and Wufei plus the fighting suits that Trowa recognized belonging to the Maguanacs and the Preventors pressed the advantage and Sacred Omega was soon on the roust. Trowa blinked; a miracle? The suit quickly flew over to a cleared area in front of the city gates and landed, going to one knee.

"Midii," he called over the suits com. No reply.

"Midii," he tried again. Again, only silence.

"AI, what's the status of the pilot?"

"Pilot not responding, life signs at critical levels and falling. Pilot remains unresponsive to attempts to resuscitate."

Trowa hurriedly unstrapped himself from the seat and pushed his way out of the secondary cockpit then scrambled up to the entrance of the primary cockpit. The door was sealed shut, frantically he looked for any sort of manual opening, there was a digital keypad but no other form of manual override. He curled his fist and banged on the opening.

"AI! Open the cockpit!" he ordered.

"Unable to comply," was the mechanized response.

"Why not?" he snapped, scrabbling at it trying to get inside.

"You are not cleared for access to the primary cockpit."

"Let me in there damn you!" he picked up a nearby piece of debris and swung at the door, aiming for the crack and succeeding in jamming it in there a little ways. He pushed on the side of the scrap he was using as a pry bar and the small crack widened enough for him to get a hand in. Trowa heaved and the door eventually gave up. Midii lay down in the bottom of the cock pit, an unusual one because instead of opening outward with the seat in the back it opened topward with the cockpit itself in a little hollow in the bottom.

She's not breathing, he realized. Hurriedly he lowered himself down into the opening headfirst and grabbed her up by the shoulders dragging her out into the light of day. He worked on loosening her pilot suit while he ordered AI to make communications with the Preventors frequencies.

"Com channel open," he was informed a scant second later.

"Mediic!" he called. "Medic! Oh god, hang in there Midii..."

Trowa began pummeling her chest, trying to get her to breathe.

"Trowa?" Quatre's voice said over the com. "Is that you?"

"Yes. She's not breathing," Trowa said.

"Sally's on her way," Quatre assured him.

"Don't worry about the rest of these suits," Duo's voice said over the com. "We'll take care of 'em."

Trowa had ceased to be aware of or even care about the battle going on around him. It was unusual how fast his world could switch focus; at any time before this it would have been the exact opposite and he would have ignored the civilian in favor of finishing out the battle. He continued pushing on her chest trying to get her to breath and get her heart to beat but she remained unresponsive. Sally and a small medical team arrived shortly thereafter, pushing him out of the way and beginning the serious work of reviving her.

The chest piece on her pilots-suit gave her a shock suddenly and she gasped.

"We have a heartbeat!" an assistant that Trowa couldn't recall his name said triumphantly. "We're stabilizing now."

Trowa had no idea that he could actually be flooded with relief but that was precisely what it felt like, a wave crashing out from his heart that spread out throughout his entire body. Midii was quickly packed onto a stretcher and hauled out of the battlefeild. He saw Lady Une over at one point giving orders for the wounded to be attended to, and for this or that group to complete this or that task so that matters could be wrapped up efficiently. He hopped down from the Excalibur and looked up at the suit; no wonder she'd been so cautious about revealing this thing to anybody, it really was dangerous. He looked out at the battlefeild where his comrades were chasing off the last of the stragglers and saw an enormous crater where the white light had gone off.

Just what is the Rowan Driver? he wondered. It had nearly cost the pilot, Midii, her life. Trowa made for the medical tent unsurprised to find his sister Catherine already there. She looked on worriedly as the medics worked quickly to stabilize her condition. She squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"She'll be fine, I'm sure of it," Cathy said with a small tight smile. Trowa nodded distantly, his entire attention concentrated on her grey-pale face. She looked dead. He couldn't stay in this place.

He turned on her heel and strode from the tent, seeking a place where he could be alone with his thoughts. As usual he wound up by the lion cages. He sat down with a sigh the others would probably come seeking him wanting to know what the heck that suit was and where it came from, Quatre would probably want to know what had upset him. These were his friends; an unusual bunch of ex-soldiers but they worked.

"So you're saying that she's had a suit like that for all these years and she's almost never used it?" Duo said, a little incredulously. It was morning of the next day and they had all gathered inside the vacated cicus tent. Trowa nodded. They had indeed sought him out for a reunion and some form of gossip, or what passed for it among Gundam Pilots.

"I think she's right to be so cautious," QUatre volunteered. "We all remember what the zero system made a person capable of. Something that turns will into reality as she says may be capable of a lot more than merely the obvious."

The five of them looked at the new suit with differing amounts of speculation, likely foremost on all of their minds was the idea of taking it out and seeing what it was really capable of in the hands of an experienced pilot. It was probable that the only thing stopping them was the mention of a security system that would lock them inside the cockpit and start up the self-destruct sequence. It would be a rather ignominious way to die.

"So how did she get hurt?" Duo asked at last. "The last I saw there wasn't anything that could touch the suit through it's weird planet defender sheild thing when it was even visable for an enemy to lock onto."

"She told me that the system had a history of killing its pilots," Trowa said. "She said she'd mastered it, but also that it was still dangerous for even her to use. I don't know anything more than that. Just that after that last attack she made the suit said that her lifesigns were at critical and she was getting worse."

"Trowa?" Catherine's voice called. "Trowa, she's awake. She's been asking to see you."

Trowa abruptly left the group without so much as a backward glance.

"Well," Duo felt obliged to say. "It looks lke another of us had fallen. Good for him, I was beginning to feel like the odd man out."

Lady Une was already inside the medical tent conversing with the prone and weak-looking Midii Une.

"...They say that they won't accept anyone else but you," she was saying to Midii.

"I just want to go home," Midii said in a subdued voice. "But I know that even if I didn't accept their proposal I still wouldn't be able to. it seems a good solution, let me think on it for a while."

"And that suit?" Lady Une asked. "Surely you intend to destroy it. Now that the world knows that such a powerful weapon exists they will not suffer it to remain. It would be a danger to peace, not only yours and your countries but possibly the worlds, if it fell into the wrong hands..."

"I know that," Midii said tiredly. "But see it from my point of view. The Excalibur is the only legacy my father left with me, even though I personally don't actually like the suit I'm still very attached to it for that reason. Furthermore, a lot of the developments he made for the suit were originally made for peaceful and good purposes... I would like to see them reverse engineered and put to their original intents."

"That would take more resources than you currently have, and I don't know if keeping such a weapon around until you have those resources is a good idea," Une said dubiously.

"This suit is mostly its own security device, but I have hopes for the future. I will settle upon how it shall be disposed of at a later date."

Trowa cleared his throat and Midii and Lady Une both looked over at him. Midii sent the Lady a significant glance and the Lady said

"Well, it is technically yours to dispose of until I say otherwise. We can discuss this later."

"Thank-you for understanding," Midii said. Lady Une left the two of them alone together.

Trowa went over and sat down in the chair next to her cot. Then he leaned over her and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her close to his heart and pressing his head into the side of her neck.

"Don't ever do that again," he said.

"So. Even you get worried sometimes," she said softly, as she weakly tried to return his embrace.

"Not funny," he replied, holding her tighter. He'd always thought emotions were more trouble than they wer worth, they clouded the senses and took control, making people act in ways that countered sense and self-preservation. Now he discovered that despite that, they were worth it. After a long moment in which he just held her she at last said

"They want to make me their queen."

He broke the embrace to look at her in surprise. Midii nodded.

"The Havens met and settled on it while I was away. They won't accept the Provisional Government; they want someone who will care about them, someone who will put their welfare above her own. They want me. I don't know if this is what I want to do, Homeguard is a big enough challenge as it is. Maybe I'm just being selfish. I love you and I want to remain beside you always, but I know these people need me and I can't turn away. What do I do Trowa? If you tell me you want me with you I'll stay beside you always, no matter what."

Trowa paused. She'd just placed her life and her future in his hands. Leaned over one last time and kissed her deeply, as deeply as a man would drink from an oasis after a day in the desert and he held her face in his hands to imprint her on his memory.

"Do as your heart tells you to do," he said. "It may not always be easy, but you must do what you think is right."

Midii sighed and leaned forward to cling to him like a drowning victim holding onto a floating spar. They both knew that this would be thier last chance to be together for quite some time. They would accept it because at least they had this much.

"I love you," she whispered. Trowa tightened his grip. She knew he wasn't very big on words and he also knew she would accept his simple acknowledgement in place of them for now. Someday woul come the time when he would say them back to her, but not right then.

"Help me to my feet?" she asked of him. He knew what it cost her to have to admit to that much weakness, even despite the fact she'd hovered on the brink of death a few scant hours ago. Apparently, if you managed to live through the effects of the Rowan Driver System the aftermath did not linger. He picked her up in his arms and set her down gently. It was time.

She walked out from the medical tent, supported on one side by him. The gate of the makeshift citadel opened wide before her and she walked down the central street directly to the magnificent structure of the Capitol building. Her people lined up along either side as though it was some kind of parrade and when she walked slowly up the steps the front lawn was flooded with spectators. From out of the building emerged the seven ministers of the Provisional Government and Lady Une with nine Preventors, and in addition There was the young Relena woman she'd saved from drowning before, but she was wearing the suit of a high ranking government official. Go figure it.

She was asked to recite seveal oaths that outlined her duty to her country and people, as well as an oath of non-agression and cooperation with the Earth Sphere Unified Nation, she recited the oaths without a qualm; it was no less than she had been doing up until this point. There was the added benefit of being able to look at the ministers significantly on some parts of the oaths involving the duties owed to her people and they did have the grace to look uncomfortable.

She was crowned before a wildly cheering public who afterwards proceeded to haul out their fiddles, accordians, pipes and flutes and launch into reels and jigs favored by the common and unsophisticated folk of Belterre and a massive celebration commenced. Traditional dances, drinking songs, moonshine and a lot of unusual revelry followed a battle that no one on the Belterre side had seriously held out hope of winning. There was a new hope for the future in the form of their young queen, thier peole had gathered in this one place... now of all time was the time for a massive party!

Midii had been unable to hold back her smile at the sight of Trowa joining one of the impromptu bands spinning out a reel called "The Gneevguillia Reel" along with a strange Preventor boy with blonde hair and blue eyes who played the fiddle part. They played the difficult peice masterfully, Trowa had no troubles at all keeping breath with the long passes full of notes striking one after another in rapid sucession and the blonde kept pace excellently with his fiddle even though the song was incredibly fast paced. Midii, even though she was newly crowned and the celebration was nominally for her, couldn't resist showing off her skill on the fife jumping in with Trowa on the third movement of the peice. After they'd finished with their peice she jumped in for a fife-reel called "The Boys of the Lough" a fast peice that, if played correctly, sounded like the flautist never took a breath but kept the song up in one long swift series of patterned notes. Then she accompanied one of the drinkers on an old favorite called "Let Mister McGuire Sit Down."

The party would continue long into the night possibly until morning for it hadn't been often at all that the poor people had this much to celebrate, but Midii knew that the next day would bring the real work of trying to get this country back on her feet. Well, it was wise to enjoy the moment at times like these and let the future attend to itself. There would be more than enough time to worry about it in the time to come.

When they found a moment of privacy alone together Trowa made certain she knew that he was indeed going to miss her.


	14. Epilogue

Epilogue

Midii gazed out at the construction of the city spread before her. The repayment of the debts that the Provies had aquired was going to be troublesome when added to the funds she had had to borrow in order to accomplish something useful, but she had a good feeling that the deconstruction of the Excalibur's feild generators would go a long way toward alleviating that. She found a file located inside the system itself that had copies of all of her Father's work and research that was going a long way in the revearse engineering of new devices, one of which was already in place over the city. It looked like a giant soap bubble and it kept the interior temperature and weather at a nice balmy fifty seven degrees at all times saving the people within the dome from having to make thier own heating devices. It was the first step in a project she had been working on with Quatre Winner and the Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs Relena (and who would have thought that the girl had actually once ruled the entire earth!) that would aid the Mars Terraformation Project immensely. Quatre was providing the tools, scientists (and financial backing) for the Terra-domes, Relena was spearheading the terraformation Project so she was already deeply involved and quite excited about the prospects for her baby.

It wasn't perfect, but nothing ever was. She still longed for her home and for her family, but she had more than enough to keep her occupied for quite some time to come. She looked down at a picture of her and Trowa together, she was smiling and he had her arm around her. Catherine had taken it. She missed him too, everyday. There wasn't a day that went by that he did not feature in her thoughts somewhere, but that would have to keep. He had a life of his own at the circus and she would be too busy for some time to really be able to pay him the kind of attention she wanted to and that she felt he deserved. The time would come, when she was through with her responsibilities, where she could be selfish and follow her own hearts desire but for now, her people needed her.

Someday, she thought whistfully, thinking of a beautiful house all of her own in Lyons Peak with Trowa as her wonderful husband and a couple of children running wild through the woods. Someday.


End file.
